


You and Us

by Casloveshisfreckles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blended family, Blow Jobs, Bottom!Cas, Dean's POV, Destiel - Freeform, Falling In Love Again, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Frottage, HEA, HS Reunion AU, M/M, Self-Doubt, Soft Boys, dadstiel, dcmb19, dean's low self esteem, of course there's fluff here, single dads, sweet dad fluff, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 14:49:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19703596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casloveshisfreckles/pseuds/Casloveshisfreckles
Summary: When the invitation for Dean’s twenty-fifth high school reunion arrives in the mail, he tosses it straight to the trash. That’s Dean’s past and if there’s anything he knows, it’s to leave the past where it belongs, far far away.His daughter Emma has other ideas and Dean finds himself facing down his past and the one that got away. He doesn't know what it could mean for him, his daughter, or their future.Maybe happy ever after.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hello, and welcome to my 2019 DCMB! I've always wanted to indulgently write some dadstiel and when the original idea for my dcmb got too big, I needed a story to fill it's place. I had a sweet little high school reunion idea sitting in my drafts which, given some thought, has turned into the story you're about to read. I hope you find them sweet, and cautious, and everything two single dads to teenagers should be and I hope you fall for their little family as much as I did as I discovered them. 
> 
> My heart, as always, belongs to FanforFanatic for her help as my beta. I can't say it enough but she's the best. 
> 
> Also some special thanks to Jess and Kay for giving this fic a once over. Imagine them thinking I was giving them a treat when they were really doing me the favor but that's kind of how our friendship works because, well, they're awesome (and they haven't figured out that they can do better)(no one tell them). Thank you ladies, not only for your help, but for your daily contributions to my high blood pressure and early demise. Don't ever change. 
> 
> I got to work with the awesome Leaf Zelindor as my artist for this fic and she was so awesome and fun to work with. I hope you go and give her art some love and you can find it [here](https://leafzelindor.tumblr.com/post/186118637914/). Thank you Leaf, you rock and I hope we end up paired together again in the future!
> 
> One last thanks to the mods for another great year of stories! Make sure you check out the collection, there's some awesome fics coming soon.
> 
> Would it surprise you to hear that the title of this fic did not come from a song and that it does not have a playlist? I did use a 90's playlist for some inspiration but otherwise, these two kinda wrote themselves over a long, rainy weekend in May; the best kind of verse to create for you. I hope you enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

Dean’s not going in. 

He knows what he said, what he promised his daughter, that he’d go to his twenty-fifth high school reunion and at least _try_ to have a good time. When the invitation came, Dean had chucked it straight into the trash but by some kind of miracle (or the quick and clever hands of his sixteen year old daughter), the Save the Date was stuck to their fridge the next day. Dean had gotten into the habit of glaring at it while he drank his morning cup of coffee. 

And now here he was, the Impala in her old assigned spot in the parking lot of Sullivan High, Dean inside and arguing with his reflection in the rear-view mirror. A car passes behind him and the headlights that flash in his mirror make him flinch and scowl. 

He could grab a pizza and go home early to surprise Emma, see if she wants to watch the newest season of Dr. Sexy with him. Or he could just go to a bar for a few hours and then go home, tell her he had a great time and then pretend none of it ever happened. 

The thought of lying to his daughter makes Dean’s stomach turn. 

Dean levels his gaze with his reflection and runs a shaky hand through his hair. “Nut up, Winchester,” he mutters to himself before finally pushing the Impala’s door open, the squeak of her hinges reminding him to run to the hardware store tomorrow for some WD-40. Dean tugs his shirt straight, still unsure about the blue and red flannel Emma insisted looked great over the dark grey shirt she picked out for him. The shirt is tucked into Dean’s nicest pair of jeans, no holes or random shop stains, and he’s wearing his brown boots that are the least scuffed. 

Dean’s not young anymore and it shows, the t-shirt straining thanks to the pudgy bits around his middle that seem to be getting harder and harder to work off. Emma always tells him he’s imagining things, but it doesn’t stop Dean from only having one or two donuts in the morning these days. He glares at the few gray hairs at his temples that started showing up, year or so after his fortieth birthday.

“Fuck it,” he curses under his breath, deciding to stop giving a shit about how he looks. What’s it matter how many extra pounds he’s packed on, there’s no one here for him to impress. At least he can hit up the open bar while he tries not to think about certain people. Certain people with wild hair and eyes to match, who made Dean himself feel wild, who could talk Dean into doing things that only teenagers can get away with.

A lot of people have their first crush when they’re young but no one is supposed to be thinking about them still, twenty-five years later. That’s just _sad._

Add it to the list: divorced, single dad, mechanic (he ignores the voice inside his head that sounds like Emma reminding him that classic car restoration is _totally different, Dad)_ , and still pining for a man he hasn’t seen since high school. Castiel Novak was his first real friend turned first real boyfriend; the first love of Dean’s life and the one that got away. Not to say Dean isn’t thrilled with the way his life’s turned out—being a dad is awesome and he wouldn’t trade Emma for anything in the whole damn world.

While he waits to get in, Dean thinks of at _least_ six legitimate excuses to bail early but before he can execute any of them, he hears a shriek, followed by, “Dean Winchester, is that you?!” 

Becky Rosen. Standing behind the check-in desk. Because of course she is. It wouldn’t be a Sullivan High event if Becky wasn’t behind it, annoying the shit out of everyone. 

“You look _great,_ it is so _great_ to see you! How’s your brother?”

“What?”

She tries looking around Dean, as if Sam’s hiding behind him or something. “Is he your plus one, by any chance?” 

“No—”

“Is he married now? Does he have any kids?”

Dean can’t get a word in. “What?”

She crosses Dean's name off her list, looks up at him with a coy smile, and hands him a name tag. “Does he _want_ any?”

Dean wrinkles his nose and takes the sticker with his name on it. He’d forgotten about Becky’s strange obsession with his brother. “Sam’s married now, lots of kids,” Dean lies, bouncing his eyebrows as he un-sticks his nametag with a flurry, sticking it to the front of his flannel. “He’s almost got his own soccer team.” 

Her face drops in disappointment. “Oh. That's too bad.” She perks up. “Tell him to call me if it doesn't work out.” She gestures for the next in line and Dean shakes his head as he moves out of the way. It's too bad some people never grow out of their creepy phase. 

A huge banner greets him over the gymnasium doors, welcoming the graduating class back _,_ and Dean follows the sound of nineties music coming from inside. Pushing the doors open, Dean blinks against the onslaught of their school colors, maroon and silver. They cover every surface, including all the round tables set up for dinner, elaborate centerpieces taking up the middle of each one. White twinkle lights hang between the two basketball posts, arching towards the middle of the room to create a canopy above the dance floor and that’s kinda nice but everything else is just on the right side of tacky, the kind a person can appreciate. 

Castiel would love it.

Everyone’s shoes still squeak when they walk across the floor and the gym smells exactly the same as Dean remembers it, like dirty socks and puberty and it all takes Dean back to a better time, an easier time he was too stupid to appreciate back then. 

Thinking about it makes Dean want a drink and as the dulcet sounds of Third Eye Blind fill the gym, his eyes zero in on the makeshift bar next to the bleachers, crowded with his former classmates and their plus ones. Dean, plus none, orders a beer when it’s his turn, craving something harder but not really interested in getting stuck here waiting for a buzz to wear off. 

Sipping his beer, Dean starts a lap around the gym, nodding hello to people whose names he can’t remember, the same people Dean used to greet the same way in the halls. He never stuck to one group but got along with everyone, not getting close to anyone… until the Novak Family moved to town his Junior year. 

“Hey, Winchester!” 

Dean turns towards the voice and is greeted by a rousing cheer of recognition from a table occupied by a group of familiar faces; his old wrestling teammates. They made it to State their senior year and it was Dean that brought home the championship, beating Gunner Lawless by pinning him three times in a row in the finals. Not that it matters much, Gunner went on to become a famous wrestler and all Dean has to show for it is his name on a trophy somewhere, forever celebrated in a glass case no one so much as glances at.

He’s happy to shoot the shit with the guys for a while, Benny telling him about his cajun restaurant down in Baton Rouge that Dean promises to visit if he’s ever in the area. He hears about Victor’s job in the FBI in the vaguest of terms (but even those are still pretty awesome), and Andy’s expanding number of medical marijuana stores in California. Garth keeps the beers coming; he was always the best manager the team ever had and before Dean knows it, an hour has gone by and dinner is being served. 

He eats with the guys and tells them about himself, leaves out his divorce but brags about his badass, genius daughter, happy to take his phone out and show off a few recent photos of her. He closes the gallery and pauses to smile at his home screen: a picture of Emma behind the wheel of the Impala; the sunbeams streaming in dull compared to her bright smile. Dean took it last summer to commemorate a huge rite of passage in his book: the first time Emma drove his Baby. He’d taken her out for her first practice run and afterwards, they’d stopped at a roadside diner for burgers and milkshakes. 

The photo always reminds him of how awesome that day was. 

Dean’s enjoying his buzz but it comes at a price, and after Garth finishes an entertaining story about the time the team got stranded in Chicago by a freak snowstorm, he excuses himself for the restroom, promising the team he’d be back with another round. 

By the time Dean comes out, people are dancing and he makes a _wide_ berth of the makeshift dance floor, just to be on the safe side, especially after Rhonda Hurley passed by the wrestling table with her eyes on Dean, a few too many times for it to have been casual. When they hooked up summer before Junior year, Dean ended up in pink, satin panties so who knows how her tastes have _matured_ in twenty-five years. 

Groaning at the sight of the crowded bar, Dean decides to wait it out and finds an empty pub table to lean against. He brushes off the maroon and silver confetti before he rests his elbows on the tabletop, phone in hand. A new notification tells him he has a text from Emma.

_ >>Having fun dad? _

He grins at his screen.

_ <<If I leave now, we can catch the end of the Royals game together. _

_ >>They’re losing 10-0 and its the bottom of the eighth. Stay, enjoy the company of other adults. _

Gross, no thank you. Emma’s still sending messages.

_ >>Hang out with your old friends! _

Check.

_ >>Spike the punchbowl! _

Pointless with the open bar but Dean likes her enthusiasm, snickering behind his hand as he reads her texts.

_ <<Have you been watching nineties rom coms with your aunt again? Without me?! _

>>😂 

_ >>Find the one that got away and kiss him in the middle of the dance floor! The ultimate high school reunion cliche! _

Dean can’t help it when his eyes flick up to scan the room for the hundredth time, seems like, still disappointed when he doesn’t see Castiel amongst the groups of people standing around talking or in the small crowd of people on the dance floor. He’s not in the bar line, Dean already checked that when he was assessing crowd size. Dean had convinced himself that this cheesy, monumental kind of thing was right up Cas’ alley, had convinced his pathetic heart that maybe he had been in the back of Castiel’s thoughts too, all these years, always something to compare everything against, even for a second. 

Too bad Dean’s imagination overreached on this one, judging by Castiel’s lack of attendance.

And Emma has no idea how on the mark she is, with her throw away comment. He grimaces and texts her back a winking emoji, ready to brave the bar line and maybe upgrade his drink to something a little stronger. Time to give up the dream and get drunk.

“It looks as if you could use a beer.” The deep baritone over his shoulder sends a shiver down his spine that Dean hasn’t felt in twenty-five years. It’s a voice that resonates in every single one of Dean’s bones, a voice that turns Dean into a complete idiot, a voice he won’t admit to dreaming about, every so often. Dreams about Cas are the good dreams. And now it seems Dean was very _wrong_ about Castiel’s attendance. He’s kinda terrified about what he’s gonna see when he turns around but he takes a deep breath and does it anyway. 

“Hello, Dean.”

Castiel greets him with two of the _most_ familiar words, words that tumble through his head right as he’s drifting off to sleep, that make Dean think of blinking awake to those same blue eyes and that same gentle smile, only now, Cas has a few tight lines around the corners of his eyes and the crease between his brows is deeper. 

Dean sure as hell wasn’t prepared for Castiel to look even _better_ than he remembered and it takes him a few moments to realize he _didn’t_ fall down and hit his head and that yes, this is in fact, happening. 

“You’re—you’re here,” Dean stammers out, always with the smooth moves. 

So quick Dean almost misses it, a smile flashes across Castiel’s face before he ducks his head to stare at his feet. “Yes, well, first my flight was delayed due to an issue with the engine and a new plane had to be sent. Then when I _did_ arrive _,_ an accident on the expressway further delayed me, adding an additional hour to my original ETA.” 

He's cute. He’s rambling. Castiel’s cute and rambling and standing in front of Dean again after twenty-five frickin’ years and Dean can’t even believe it. 

“And then I had to check into my hotel and shower, and change a few times and well, yes, I’m here—finally.” 

Castiel used to ramble when he was nervous and it appears that hasn’t changed. It helps Dean relax, knowing he’s not the only one. He fixes on an easy smile and accepts the beer Castiel’s offering him, Dean’s hand going over Castiel’s, the brush of their fingers making Dean’s fingertips tingle. 

“Happy you made it,” Dean says, nodding his thanks for the beer and reminding himself to breathe when Castiel steps closer to his side, so close their shoulders brush and Dean sees Cas still has problems with personal space, too. Dean’s never been more thankful for it when he breathes in Castiel’s spicy vanilla cologne. He leans just a fraction into what little space there is left between them. 

“It’s hard to believe it’s been twenty-five years,” Castiel murmurs as he takes him in, steel-blue eyes analyzing Dean’s face. Castiel takes a sip of his beer as if to steady himself. “It’s great to see you, Dean.” The corner of his mouth twitches into the smallest of smiles and Dean forgot how much he liked kissing the corner of Cas’ mouth when he did that. He wants to do it now.

Well, fuck. 

Dean’s mouth is suddenly dry and he takes his own drink but he does it way too fast, carbonation snaking up the neck of the bottle to tickle Dean's nose. He has to move quickly to avoid sneezing on Castiel and _wow,_ Dean's really nailing this reunion thing. He's only been imagining this moment since that stupid invitation showed up and presented him with the chance to see Cas again and now he acting like a complete fucking moron. 

“God bless you,” Castiel says, bringing his hand up to squeeze Dean's shoulder, blue eyes dancing. “Would you like to find a table? I think it would be nice to catch up.” He says it like Dean might say no which is funny because Dean doesn’t think he’s ever been able to say no to Cas, even if he tried. He sure as hell isn’t about to start now.

“Yeah,” Dean agrees, his nod encouraging Castiel to turn so he can follow and, because Dean’s a gentleman, he waits an extra few seconds before flicking his eyes down to check out Castiel’s ass. It looks _great_ , awesome for a guy their age and Dean wonders if Cas is still a runner, remembering his phenomenal ass in those little maroon running shorts they made the track team wear. 

He blushes when he finally tears his eyes off Cas’ butt, only to get caught by its owner, who’s looking at Dean over his shoulder, eyebrow raised. Dean’s cheeks burn but the smile on Cas’ face creeps up a little higher, so it’s absolutely worth it. And bonus, it doesn’t seem that Cas thinks Dean’s turned into a colossal perv. 

Castiel leads them away from the DJ and the dancing to a sectioned off second half of the gym where bistro tables and another _secret_ bar is set up, this one way less crowded. Dean hadn’t even noticed it when he arrived. The lounge is dimly lit but still dripping in school colors and he huffs out a laugh when Cas bats away a rogue streamer drooping from the ceiling. He finds them a table for two in the corner and looks towards Dean who is gesturing at the bar, definitely needing something harder now. 

Cas nods at Dean’s indication to getting them another round of drinks. His heart beats faster just _looking_ at Cas across the room.

Damn, he needs to get it together. He’s so _nervous_ , he can’t figure out why he’s so nervous. Probably because Cas looks so good. Dean tries not to watch Cas take off the trench coat he’s wearing, Cas’ arms straining against the sleeves of his white button up. He’s so _thick,_ what the fuck. Dean can see the muscles flex when Cas loosens his tie and unbuttons the top few buttons of his shirt, exposing his long neck.

“Sir? Sir, are you ready to order?” 

Dean curses and apologizes. Fuckin’ Cas, still a distraction after all this time. 

He orders their old favorite, back when they’d use the fake IDs Cas’ cousin made them (twenty bucks each still seems steep to Dean but whatever). They’d go down to the crappy dive bar just outside town, until his uncle’s friend Rufus caught them there, after Ellen threw _him_ out of the Roadhouse for the night. 

Bobby kicked their asses for that one. 

The bartender gives him a tray for the two rounds he orders. Their go-to was always a shot of tequila and a beer. If he has to take a cab later, so be it, especially considering the way Cas looks tonight. For a split second Dean wishes he didn’t even have to _go_ home. 

The thought comes rearing back into his brain when Castiel’s eyes light up at the contents of the tray as Dean approaches. “Tequila and beer, huh? Good thing I decided to stay in town a few nights.” He helps Dean unload their drinks and line up their shots. “Where are you staying?”

“I—uh, I still live here.” Dean picks up a shot and holds it up. “Ready to do this? You remember the rules?” 

If Castiel’s surprised that Dean never left Lawrence, he doesn’t let it show. Instead, he nods. “Take a shot, chug the beer.” He picks up his shot. “We always used to sip our second beers though.” 

Dean grins. They were kinda dorks, even about their underage drinking. “Cheers.” Their gaze stays locked on each other as they take their first shots, the gleam in Cas’ eye mesmerizing Dean and making it impossible to look away. Castiel’s eyes slam shut first as the tequila burns its way down their throats, the beer a perfect chaser. Dean finishes his first and waits for Castiel to catch up, checking his watch and raising an eyebrow, making Castiel glower and drink the last of his beer faster. He slams his glass on the table and wipes the back of his hand across his lips and just shakes his head before he picks up the next shot glass. 

Castiel tips their glasses together this time and shoots it back first, grimacing at the taste before taking a few big swallows of beer. Dean does the same and watches Cas’ throat work and he almost forgets to swallow, until Cas puts his glass down and snaps Dean out of his daze. 

“I can't recall the last time I've done that.” Castiel eyes the second round, waiting patiently for them. 

“That means it's been too long,” Dean teases him, as if he's some big drinker. He's hardly drank more than a few beers at a time, ever since Emma came along. After Lydia left them, Dean had even less reason to drink, much as he wanted to. 

Dean checks his watch and thinks about calling Emma, tell her he's gonna stay a little longer after all. For more time with Cas, he'll take the _I told you so._

“Do you need to check in with your wife?”

Dean grimaces and looks up to see Cas wearing a hesitant look. He's trying hard as hell to look nonchalant but he's failing. Dean's eyes flick down to Castiel's left hand, wrapped around his beer. 

No ring. 

“My daughter,” he shakes his phone with a grin, finding himself more relieved at Cas’ lack of jewelry than he expected. It gets him out of his seat quicker, anyway. “Will you excuse me for a sec? I'm about to get the mother of all ‘I told you so’s’,” he bounces his eyebrows and loves the way Castiel's eyes soften at the mention of his daughter. And the way his cheeks flush at Dean's flirting. 

He edges around the nearest corner and dials Emma, who answers on the first ring. 

“If it's that bad, come home dad. I don't want you to be miserable, okay? We'll watch Rogue One again, I finished all my homework already and I was just writing.”

His sweet girl. Leaving her alone was a simple choice, Emma being far beyond her years, maturity wise—way more mature than he was at her age. Dean didn't even remember to tell her to do her homework before he left, too in his head about the reunion. And now she wants to let him off the hook. 

“We're all good, baby girl. I'm gonna stay, see this out.” He grins when Emma squeals with happiness. 

“Yes, yes, yes! Okay, have fun! Wait—are you drinking?” A twinge of concern threads its way into her voice. Despite the fact that he never drives after he's been drinking, they still have an agreement in place. 

“I already have the number to a taxi company, don't worry. If it comes to that, I'll let you know.”

“You could stay, you know,” she replies. Concerns placated, her tone turns nonchalant. _Too_ nonchalant, in Dean’s opinion. What's his daughter up to? 

“The reunion committee reserved a block of rooms at the Marriott down the street, it was on the invitation,” she goes on. “Just in case.”

Dean rolls his eyes. For the last year or so, his sister-in-law and daughter have been cohorts in a sorry attempt to set Dean up on a date. He only made the mistake of indulging them once, his date with Aaron (Donna’s partner on the police force) a complete disaster. He'd never actually been on a blind date and now he knows why they have such a bad reputation.

“Your Aunt put you up to this?”

Emma's silent. 

“You two are terrible.”

“Just text Aunt Donna and let her know. I won't wait up!”

“You guys can't hang out anymore.”

“Yes we can. Text me what you decide to do, love you daddy!”

Dean can't stay mad at that, what man could? 

“Love you too, baby girl.”

Their call ends and Dean stares at his daughter's picture again. She looks like her mother, in the way daughters do. They share the same nose and chin and Emma got Lydia's laugh. She's blonde too but instead of the stick straight hair Lydia had, Emma has soft waves like her Aunt Donna, the two sisters different in every way. Emma got Dean's green eyes and his cheeky grin and when she's mad or frustrated, the same dimples of discontent. 

He doesn't know if she acts just like him because she hit the genetic lottery or if it's because it's been just the two of them since Emma was a baby. Whatever the cause, Dean knows he's got a good kid. The best, should anyone ask him.

Except his wonderful daughter basically told him to stay out and get laid, following (proudly, Dean doesn’t doubt) the meddling footsteps of the rest of the women in Dean’s life. 

It might be time for another round back at the table. And for the man sitting there, too. 

He doesn’t fight his smile at the sight of Cas tucking his phone into his jacket pocket, his head bent down. He’s so handsome—not the teenage boy Dean remembers but a man, all sharp lines and stubble Dean wants to feel on the inside of his thighs. 

Dean’s getting way too ahead of himself. 

The way Castiel’s eyes light up when he sees Dean is back makes his mouth go dry again. He sits quickly and picks up his beer, just to get himself back together. 

“Everything all right?”

He must look as flustered as he feels. Dean huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. “She’s incorrigible.”

Castiel tilts his head in confusion.

“My daughter, Emma. Once she sets her mind on something, it’s impossible to veer her off course.” 

Castiel doesn’t seem phased. “Do you ever ask yourself where she gets that?”

Dean throws his head back and laughs. “Asshole,” he accuses Cas, shoving at his shoulder. “Now we have to drink.” 

Eyes twinkling, Cas indulges him and raises his half-full glass. “To fatherhood.”

“I can drink to that,” Dean says, wondering if Cas has any kids and realizing that he hopes he does. Being a dad has been an incredible experience and one Cas often talked about wanting; kids, the white picket fence, all of it. Dean hopes he got it all and then some. 

Yeah, Dean can drink to that. 

He can feel himself relaxing, the buzz of alcohol burning under his skin, Castiel shifting closer, leaning in a little further.

“Tell me about your daughter,” Cas requests, his voice a rumble. His hand is wrapped around his glass and every time he takes a sip, he brings it back down and rests it a little closer to Dean’s hand and it’s like there’s a live wire in the space between them. 

In an attempt to ignore it, he tells Cas about Emma's perfect grades and how hard she works to keep them. He tells him about her love of books, reading, and most importantly Harry Potter, thanks to her uncle who sent her the entire set when she was six, forcing Dean to read them to her before she went to bed every night; until she was old enough to read them herself and Dean would catch her up all night reading with a book light Sam sent her. And now she writes Harry Potter fan fiction, an extension of the stories with the next generation of wizards and Dean tells Cas about them and how Emma lets him read them before she posts them online. 

Dean talks about hit counts and fan conventions and admits to having custom robes made for both of them and Cas listens to every word, laughing every time Dean tries to be funny and asking leading questions that send Dean on tangents with more anecdotes about his amazing daughter. 

Their drinks are empty and realizing that brings Dean’s stories to a halt. It also makes him realize that since he’s been yammering, Cas has managed to press not only the back of their hands together but also their knees under the table and even their shoulders. Every part of them that’s touching suddenly feels hot and he looks at Cas, only to find him staring at his mouth. 

He snakes his tongue past his teeth and flicks his lower lip and Cas’ mouth falls open a fraction. 

Dean inches forward, wanting so bad to close the ever dwindling gap between them and Cas swallows noisily and closes his eyes. 

A glass shatters and one of their idiot classmates bumps into their table, causing all the glasses to rattle, a few to fall over, and for Dean and Castiel to spring apart. 

They both get to their feet to make sure the dumbass is okay and they watch as the man stumbles away, already calling to his friends. Adrenaline fading, Dean realizes he’s a little drunk and judging by the way Cas is slightly swaying on his feet, he is too. 

“Get some air?” Dean suggests and Cas nods and grabs them two bottles of water as they pass the bar before leaving the area. Avoiding the entrance, Dean leads them to the back of the gym and through the swinging doors that take them to the locker rooms and outside to the school’s fields. Dean spent most of his time inside the gym with wrestling but Cas ran long distance and cross-country track and they spent a lot of time going to baseball and football games whenever they could. 

The cool air helps clear Dean’s head and the sudden rush of silence after the gym door closes behind them is almost deafening. After a moment, the muffled sound of the reunion can be heard, quiet from inside. The two of them start walking together under the moonlight. 

The whole time he was talking about Emma, Dean wondered about Cas and if he had found someone and made a family. His curiosity gets the better of him and he breaks the comfortable silence they’ve been sharing since they came outside. “Do you have any kids, Cas?” 

Castiel stops walking, a full-blown smile on his face. Smiles like that were rare and Dean used to bust his ass for them and he brings up his kids and Cas is giving them away for free. It’s fucking beautiful. 

“Two.” He takes his phone from inside his jacket pocket. “Claire’s my oldest, she’s finishing her junior year and already wants to attend KU, actually, as a journalism major. My son, Jack, just turned fourteen and loves science and drawing. He’s a little nervous about high school but he’s very sweet, he’ll be fine.” He shows Dean a picture of his family. They’re all pressed together under a marquee advertising Wicked, all three of them wearing matching wide smiles. Claire is a lovely young woman, her long, blonde hair in an intricate braid, her eyes blue like her fathers. Jack is handsome, his face young with long bangs swooping over his forehead, his eyes dark—green? Brown maybe—but the same nose and cheeks as Cas. And Cas is right, the kids got a sweet smile. 

Dean doesn’t know when he started grinning but he looks away from Cas’ phone to find him already staring. Cas starts and blinks fast before looking back at his phone and Dean can’t help but feel smug. He shuffles a little closer. 

“Did you guys like Wicked? I took Emma when it came to Kansas City and she loved it.” 

“Did she ask you to take her or did you ask her to go with you?” Cas teases and oh good, he remembers Dean’s secret enjoyment of all things musicals. Well, it was a secret in high school but now he could give a shit what anyone thinks about it. Now, they’re proud season ticket holders for the Kansas City Broadway.

“It’s totally a coincidence she’s in her school's theater productions every year, promise,” Dean replies with a wink. 

“We went for Jack’s thirteenth birthday. He was obsessed with the play so we drove the two hours to Chicago for dinner and the show. We stayed over and I made them go on a boat tour of the architecture the next day,” his smile is mischievous and Dean groans. 

“Still into that stuff, huh?” 

“I should hope so, it pays the bills. And now I just annoy my children with my fascination.” 

Dean raises an eyebrow and Cas nods and laughs. He’s all smiles, now that they’re talking about the kids and Dean doesn’t want it to stop. 

“So you went out and became a big, bad architect and had yourself a coupla kids. Not bad, Cas.” Dean presses his shoulder into Cas’. Cas leans right back. 

“Can I ask about their mom or…”

Look, if Dean didn't ask, he's not sure if Cas would have offered up the information. Dean didn't go to college, but he has eyes and he didn't see a pretty wife and or mother on Cas’ arm in the picture that was obviously a selfie and he isn't wearing a ring. 

Maybe they're divorced. Maybe Cas got dumped, like Dean. Maybe they just don't wear rings and she's waiting in their perfect, designed by Cas, big, white two-story house, sitting pretty in a Chicago suburb for her handsome husband to come home. Or maybe she is a him and they used a lovely surrogate for both their kids. 

“We lost their mom when Jack was three.” 

Shit. That isn’t a variable Dean was accounting for. 

“I’m sorry man, that—that must have been tough.” 

They’ve made it to the baseball field and together, almost unconsciously, they walk past the bleachers and through the chain-link fence to step into the dugout, the same single, long wooden bench, worn down by years of students not just using it for baseball, but for breaking every kind of rule teenagers break. 

Dean and Cas used to come down here to make out unless the smokers and the kids sneaking sips from bottles covered by brown paper bags occupied the space. Tonight, it sits quiet and empty and the echo of their past feels like a living breathing thing. 

Dean sits because Cas sits. 

“It was,” Cas finally says, his eyes pointed towards the field lit by the moonlight, but focused on nothing at all. “Thankfully, my family was there to help and because of that, we’ve done well. We’re very happy.” 

Dean’s been staring at Cas’s profile, watching the way his jaw moves when he talks, and the creases around his eyes that deepen when he squints into the darkness. He’s really fucking handsome. 

Cas turns to him. “And Emma’s mother?” 

Dean knew he was going to ask, the second he asked the question himself but he still finds himself choking on the reality of the words.

“She left. Emma was six months old.” 

Dean hates this topic, which is why he never talks about it. It was one of the worst moments of his life, coming home from the garage to an empty house and Lydia’s side of their bedroom cleared out. Dean thought his heart would stop when he rushed into Emma’s room, expecting it to be bare too, only to find nothing missing, nothing out of place. 

Lydia was supposed to be there, with _their_ daughter and they were both gone, which caused Dean to panic until he found the note. 

_I can’t do this anymore._

_Emma’s across the street with my sister._

_Tell her I’m sorry._

_L._

Dean broke every dish in the house and then cleaned up every single shard of ceramic before he walked across the street and broke down in his sister-in-laws arm’s. Dean didn’t know why he expected anything else, their shotgun wedding after a surprise pregnancy not exactly the stuff made of fairy tales _or_ longevity. And the way they fought, it was far from pretty but then Emma was born and none of that other shit mattered to Dean anymore because she was absolutely perfect and Dean refused to bring her any harm. 

He knew Lydia wasn’t happy and he was doing his damndest to keep the roof over their heads and Dean guesses it just got to be too much. She didn’t even tell Donna, just asked her to watch Emma and that was it. Neither of them heard from her until about a year ago, when divorce papers showed up, followed by papers that signed all of Lydia’s parental rights over to Dean. He’s only thankful they never needed them in all the years Lydia was missing. 

The return label was to some lawyers office in New Mexico. After Sam looked them over, Dean just signed them and sent them back. Him and Donna got drunk and watched old home movies of Emma all night and then never talked about it again. 

_Tell her I’m sorry._ Dean’s fuckin’ sorry too, that Lydia will never know what a bright, amazing daughter she has. 

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Cas shifts himself a fraction closer to Dean. “From what you’ve told me about her, you’ve raised a wonderful, young woman.” Dean thinks his heart is going to beat out of his chest when Cas threads their fingers together. “It’s truly her loss to have missed out on seeing you be a father.” 

Cas is close enough that his breath tickles Dean’s face when he speaks and it’s warm and smells faintly like beer and something sweet and it makes Dean’s chest ache at the proximity and still how much separates them. 

“Thanks,” he breathes out, licking his lips and watching Cas do the same, their eyes coming back up to meet again, Cas’ hand warm in his and the silence of the night they’re sharing only interrupted by the sound of their shoes shifting against dirty concrete as they make their way closer to one another. 

“I know _I_ missed you, Dean,” Cas’ voice shifts into something deeper, something slow that crawls down Dean’s spine and takes root in him. “And I’ve been thinking about kissing you again since I saw you in the gymnasium.”


	2. Chapter 2

Cas hesitates for a split second before he closes that last sliver of air that separates them, that’s been keeping them from each other for twenty-five years. Dean’s damn happy to see it go. 

It’s only a brush of his lips at first, to test if Dean’s willing and when the smile splits across his face, Cas is there devouring it, kissing Dean like he needs his kisses to live, like they might be keeping the air in his lungs and Dean kisses back, wanting to fill this aching void he’s carried for so damn long, this stupid candle he’s held for Cas finally lit with their desperation for each other. 

Hands pull at hair and at clothes while palms slide hot against the curve of a neck or the sharpness of a hip bone. Fingers sneak under loosened shirts to skirt along skin that jumps under pressing fingertips. 

Cas has always been a good kisser and Dean groans when Cas’ tongue sweeps against his own, a gentle pulse as he coaxes their heads into a tilt while he deepens their kiss. He pulls away from Dean to peck at his mouth before diving back in, his stubble rubbing deliciously against Dean’s chin as they make out in the dugout of their old high school, a scene oddly reminiscent of time spent in the past. 

Dean gets lost in it, lost in the feeling of Cas’ warm mouth, in the happy noises he makes in the back of his throat, sounds Dean wants to hear over and over, little slips of happiness Dean wants to make louder. The urge to lay Cas bare is so strong, Dean has to stop himself from pressing him down onto the hard bench, just so he can taste his skin. Cas seems like he’s having the same idea, his hands clenched in Dean’s flannel, fingers twisted in the fabric while his mouth slips away from Dean’s to trail kisses down his throat. 

It feels incredible, Cas’ mouth clever as he licks and sucks at Dean’s Adam’s apple. Dean’s head falls back with a moan… and a crack when the back hits the wall of the concrete dugout they’re up against. 

Both their heads come up simultaneously and they look at each other, both startled by the interruption, matching shocked gazes that shift into amusement, both of them doubling over in laughter at the absurdity. 

“Fuck, ow,” Dean groans and rubs the back of his head. “It hurts to laugh.” 

“Poor guy,” Cas croons at him, laughing as he rubs at Dean’s head too. “Shall we go back up and get you some ice?” 

Dean sure as hell doesn’t want the kissing to stop, but he lets Cas pull him up anyway and lead them out of the dugout and he doesn’t protest because Cas is still holding his hand as he does it and it doesn’t seem like he wants to let go. 

He’s all smiles when he glances over to Dean, who can’t stop staring at him as they walk. “Remember that time we came down here to make out and found Sam smoking cigarettes with that one girl, what was her name?”

Dean’s instantly taken back to that rainy, winter day. They’d ditched third period to meet up and Dean was _not_ happy about their discovery. Or that he got robbed of kissing Cas and had to deal with his dumbass little brother instead. 

“Ruby”, Dean glowers. “Man, I throttled that kid when we got home that day.” He shakes his head; the memory of keeping Sam away from Ruby that year still annoys the hell out of him. 

Cas chuckles. “Yup, that was her. How’s Sam now?” 

“Not a smoker, I’ll tell you that much.” Dean made sure of that, did that whole thing where he made Sam smoke a whole pack, except his lightweight little brother only got through two before he threw up. He never touched them again. 

“Nah, he’s good, great actually. Got a real smart wife, Eileen. Gave me a badass niece, Mary and another on the way, matter of fact. Eileen’s due in December.” Dean takes his phone out to find the last photo Sam sent so he can show it to Cas. “Sam’s a lawyer, got a nice big house out in Los Angeles.” Cas looks away from the photo Dean’s showing him, the last family photo Sam sent, announcing Eileen’s pregnancy. They all match in white t-shirts, jeans, and bare feet on a beach. Sammy went out and got himself a slice of the apple pie life and Dean’s happy for him. 

“How long has he been there?” 

“Ah, you know that kid always wanted to go to Stanford. Got in, ‘course and never looked back.” Dean rubs the back of his neck. “They used to come visit more but you know, it’s hard to travel with kids.” 

Cas nods in understanding and Dean wonders how many different places Cas has taken his kids.

“I’ve driven with Emma out there a few times but not since she started high school. We talk and stuff every few days though.” Sure, he misses Sam sometimes but Dean’s happy here and so is Emma, and it’s never felt wrong for him and Sam not to be near each other. Some bonds just can’t be broken by distance. 

Or time, Dean’s learning. 

Cas hums thoughtfully and their hands swing between them. They’re approaching the gym again, and Dean can hear the bass but instead of heading straight back to the reunion, Dean steers them away and towards the main building that holds the office and all the classrooms. He likes that it makes Cas laugh when he picks the lock to the building. 

“You’ve learned a thing or two,” Cas comments.

“My sister-in-law locks herself out of everything. You should see me jimmy open a car door.” The lock turns and Dean snaps his fingers in triumph. “Yahtzee.” He pulls it open for Cas. “Paying for a locksmith got expensive, so I just learned off of YouTube.” 

That makes Cas laugh too, a deep stuttering thing that bounces down the dark hallway of their empty high school. Dean wants to hear it again. 

“There was only one time someone called the cops on me when I was breaking into her house for the fiftieth time.”

“No,” Cas exclaims, picking up Dean’s hand again now that they’re inside and walking down the hall. “Did she at least bail you out?” 

“She’s the one who responded to the call, Lawrence PD’s finest,” Dean says with a grin because it makes Cas laugh _again_ and Dean’s warm all over because of it. They’re grinning as they walk down dark hallways from their past, passing rows of lockers and hand painted banners and signs. 

He trips over his feet a little when Cas yanks him into an open classroom, quickly shutting the door and pressing Dean up against it, his lips finding Dean’s again in the dark. Warm fingers curl around Dean’s hips and he grabs for Cas’ shoulders to tug him that much closer. 

“I’ve always wanted to make out in an empty classroom,” Cas mumbles against his throat, making Dean scoff. 

“We used to do that all the time.” Cas used to slip him pieces of paper between periods with a classroom number and time to meet him and they’d have hot make-out sessions while hoping they didn’t get caught. Dean preferred janitors closets (they lock) but Cas always hated the smell. 

“Yeah, but not at night,” Cas argues back, no heat behind it. He sucks Dean’s earlobe into his mouth. 

“True,” Dean admits before he tips Cas up by the chin to kiss him properly, their mouths just a hot slide of slick lips and curious tongues, both of them trying their damndest to re-acquaint themselves. Cas is a hard line of muscle pressing Dean against the door and he can’t help but hold him tighter, his hands wandering up into Cas’ thick hair, the silky strands like liquid between his fingers. Cas moans when Dean twists his fingers and drags them against his scalp. 

It’s more kissing and pressing hips until voices just outside the door make them both freeze, Dean’s mouth hanging open, Cas’ lips glued to where he was sucking at Dean’s jaw. They hold their breath until the voices fade, whoever it was continuing down the hall and just like in high school, they both let out a sigh after a moment has passed, both of them realizing at the same time that they can’t get sent to the principal's office anymore for necking in an empty classroom. 

Cas grins wickedly and goes back to what he was doing, the moan Dean had to choke back bursting from his throat, even louder after being silenced so suddenly. His head falls back against the door and it reminds him how sore it is and it makes him wince.

Cas pulls away. “We need to get your ice.” It’s dark in the classroom but Cas is lit by the moonlight enough for Dean to notice his hair sticking up in crazy peaks and it makes Dean forget his pain and pull Cas back to him for another kiss. Cas only indulges him for a moment before he’s grinning against Dean’s lips and pushing down the door handle. 

They tumble into the hall, wrapped around each other and giggling because neither of them want to let go of the other and fuck, Dean hopes he isn’t dreaming. He hopes this isn’t some fucked up dream and he’s gonna wake up the morning of the reunion alone in his bed. He’s pretty sure it’s real when Cas stops them before they get to the gym so he can pull Dean to him and kiss him again, little presses of his lips to Dean’s, like walking inside might break this spell and this isn’t Inception, they can’t both be dreaming so Dean chooses to believe it’s real and he kisses Cas back with enthusiasm because he’s waited twenty-five damn years to do it. 

The music is loud and pounding when they finally enter the gym, their classmates all still existing there and not one of them missing Dean or Cas who’ve been gone for over an hour. Looking at Cas, it’s obvious what they’ve been doing, his lips swollen and the flush high on his cheeks. Dean’s sure he looks the same, if not worse, his lighter complexion useless against his blush. 

Cas still hasn’t let go of Dean’s hand. 

He orders them another round and Dean bobs his head to that annoying song by Barenaked Ladies that doesn’t make any sense. The party is still going strong and more people are dancing, the alcohol clearly doing its job. He smirks when he sees Rhonda Hurley dancing with Garth. 

They find a table and toast again and fuck, the shot burns but it’s worth it because the flush is deepening on Cas’ cheeks and he’s smiling that gummy smile of his and Dean suddenly wants an excuse to touch him. He downs more than half his beer and Cas watches, quickly catching on and gulping his beer down too. His smile gets impossibly wide when Dean grabs his hand this time and drags him to the makeshift dance floor. 

Dean will definitely blame the alcohol for this. 

Cas laughs over the upbeat trumpets as “Ants Marching” plays, and some people in the crowd cheer, which makes them both roll their eyes as they come together to dance to the silly song, both of them smiling and trying not to step on each other the whole time, neither of them much for dancing but not really giving a damn at the moment. 

Cas’ eyes are shining as he wraps his arms around Dean’s neck when the music changes to the Goo Goo Dolls, “[Iris](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NdYWuo9OFAw)”, a song that makes Dean’s heart thump in his chest whenever he catches it on the shop radio. His hands automatically go around Cas’ waist and they step into each other’s personal space until there’s none left, Cas dropping his forehead against Dean’s shoulder as they sway back and forth. 

_And I’d give up forever to touch you, cause I know that you’d feel me right now. You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be and I don’t want to go home right now._

Stupid teenagers in love have _songs_ and this was theirs. They both thought the world didn’t understand them, as most teenagers do and it connected them, shared angst and anger over parents that let them down and siblings that didn’t get it. Dean only had Sam but Cas had a whole slew of brothers and sisters and an absent dad and his house was nonstop drama back then. Dean’s glad to know they all came together to help him out when he needed it. 

But when they were kids, they’d take off in the Impala (his dad’s license long gone thanks to his love of Johnny Walker) and drive out of town until they’d find a cornfield to fool around in or just sit on a blanket for hours under the moonlight and talk, confess every bad thought and terrible thing that befell them in their short lives already. With Cas, Dean could confess how much he hated when his dad referred to him as the dumb one and how it made him resent Sam sometimes. Cas was the only one who could hear Dean say things like that and not judge him, not think he’s some sorry piece of shit for hating his own little brother because school came easier to him and Dean had to bust his ass to get even a passing grade.

He knows without a doubt he could tell Cas that that feeling never really went away, instead just evolving into Dean sometimes being jealous of Sam’s stupid white picket fence and perfect beach photos while Dean stares at the underside of an engine all day. 

_And all I can taste is this moment, and all I can breathe is your life. Cause sooner or later it’s over, I just don’t want to miss you tonight._

They rock together under the twinkling lights, one of Cas’ hands wrapped around his neck, the other pressing against his back. Cas’ thumb sweeps against the short hair there and Dean shivers in his arms. 

“When I would miss you, I would put this song on repeat and just lay in bed. My roommate hated it because I made him keep the lights off.” Cas’ words whisper across Dean’s ears and they make him warmer, the thought of Cas missing him from so far away. 

_And I don’t want the world to see me, ‘cause I don’t think that they’d understand. When everything’s made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am._

Halfway into their senior year, Cas got accepted to Cornell. Over a thousand miles from Lawrence. They’d talked it to death. Cas didn’t want to accept, but it was the opportunity of a fucking lifetime and there’s no way Dean would have ever let him stay for _any_ reason, especially him. And he was right too, look at their lives. Cas designs entire _buildings_ and Dean just fixes cars ( _car restoration,_ **_dad_ **). If he’d stayed behind, Cas wouldn’t be doing what he’s always wanted to do for a living. 

And he wouldn’t have his kids and Dean wouldn’t have Emma so really, it all worked out.

It just sucked at the time. When Cas left, it hurt more than Dean’s ever admitted to anyone. He _couldn’t_ , he was the one that encouraged Cas, he was the one that proposed that parting ways made the most sense for Cas’ future. Cas fought him on it, shit, did they fight about it. He wanted to find a closer school, but they both knew it couldn’t get better than Cornell. Cas was lying to himself about wanting to stay and he was doing it for Dean’s benefit. 

_And you can’t fight the tears that ain’t comin’. Or the moment of truth in your lies. When everything feels like the movies, yeah you bleed just to know you’re alive._

Cas was his best friend, his first love, and giving him up had broken Dean in a way he didn’t think was fixable. Until now. 

Dean tips his head back so he can press their foreheads together. “You missed me, Cas?” He tries to say it teasingly, to push back the emotion filling his chest, but the words come out more as a whisper and Dean knows he’s failed to mask his sincerity, like he could ever hide from Cas.

Cas huffs a laugh against his lips. “Every damn day since I left, Dean. Every single day.” 

_And I don’t want the world to see me, ‘cause I don’t think that they’d understand. When everything’s made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am._

Dean’s the one that closes the space between them this time, pausing their movement to take Cas’ face in his hands and kissing him, and doing it with the intent that Cas knows Dean missed him too, missed him every fuckin’ second of every day. He wants Cas to know that Dean thought about him whenever something big happened, like the day Emma was born, or the day his dad died, how all Dean wanted was to hear Cas’ voice in those moments, to share his fears and his joy and what he had for breakfast every morning. 

Time gets suspended and they get tangled in it, their former classmates disappearing as they kiss and kiss and kiss and remember what brought them together in the first place. 

Cas is the one that breaks them apart and Dean chases his lips, collapsing dramatically against Cas’ hand pressed to his chest. It gets him what he wants, Cas’ lips on his, tipped up in a smile, but only for a second before he’s leaning back in to Dean’s ear. 

“Would you like to come back to my hotel, have one more drink?” 

Dean’s never been more eager to get anywhere in his life. He winds their hands together and walks them off the dance floor, enduring the few jeers they get as they pass by groups of people. He manages to shake Benny’s hand and get a hug from Garth before Cas has their jackets and Dean has a cab called. 

They try to stay off each other in the back of the cab but they both have swollen lips when Dean tips the smirking driver an extra twenty for putting up with them. Dean follows Cas to the elevators, watches as he pushes the button for the sixth floor and smiles when Cas slides over to kiss him again. 

The elevator doors ding and slide open before the simmering heat in Dean’s belly can flair again. He doesn’t bother to keep his hands to himself, holding Cas by the hips as they walk to his room, the tequila making him brave. Well that, and the fact that he hasn’t gotten laid in more than a calendar year. Which reminds him _why_ he hasn’t had sex in a long time. 

He has to let go of Cas to dig his phone out of his pocket while Cas presses his keycard to the door lock before it beeps twice and the lock clicks open. Cas flips on the lights by the bathroom as they step inside and that hotel room smell hits him while Dean pulls up his text thread with Donna. 

_< <Probably not getting back tonight. _Dean hesitates before he hits send. His eyes flick between the unsent text and the window where Cas stands, shrugging out of his suit jacket before he tosses it over a chair. He loosens his tie and takes his own phone out. 

It’s late, but Cas calls his kids to say goodnight, anyway. Dean hits send on his text. 

He tries not to roll his eyes at the _multiple_ confetti emojis Donna sends back. 

_> >I’ll take Emma for coffee in the morning, don’t worry about us. We’re due for a girls day! _

Damn, Dean loves her. 

_< <Thanks sis, ur the best. _

_> >Is it Cas? Please tell me it’s Cas. _

Damn her. Dean has no secrets. Donna says she knew them from school but Dean can’t remember knowing her then; she would have been a freshman when they were seniors and he didn’t meet Lydia until a few years after he graduated. Either way, she’d gotten his super secret confession about it after one too many and now, well—this. 

_< <It’s Cas. _

Dean figures he owes her. 

He doesn’t try to count the confetti emojis _or_ the crying emojis that follow. 

_> >Yes! Yes! Yes! Go get em’ tiger! Text me if you run off to Vegas to get married xoxo _

Dean rolls his eyes.

<< _Goodnight, D-train xxoo_

He glances up to see Cas talking quietly into his phone, his smile small but fond as he listens to whoever he’s speaking to at the moment. He’s pulling at his tie and Dean wants to get to him. 

Dean shoots off one more text first.

_< <Favorite daughter, taking your advice about the room. Donna will be over in the AM. Call me if 911. Won’t be taking questions at this time. Dad, out. _

The blinking dots appear immediately and a screaming gif from Home Alone pops up. Dean snorts. 

_> >You’re a dork but I love you dad. Condoms in your jacket pocket, be safe! _

Dean’s hand shoots into his jacket and he curses softly when his fingers close around the foil wrapper of a condom. He fishes around and closes his hand around a few things, pulling them out to find a few packets of lube amongst the condoms. 

Now he can never, ever go home. Cool. 

Another text comes through.

_> >Aunt Jody says if we can’t talk about it, we shouldn’t be doing it! _

Seriously, the _women_ in Dean’s life. 

_< <Goodnight meddling daughter xxxooo _

He puts his phone on the table and shrugs out of his jacket after he stuffs his loot back into the pocket. Dean doesn’t want to interrupt his conversation, but he already misses Cas, all the way across the room, but once Cas notices that Dean’s off his phone, he starts making those murmuring noises every parent makes when they’re trying to encourage their teenager to wrap their story up. 

Cas tucks the phone between his shoulder and his ear and his eyes are locked on Dean as he begins to unbutton the cuffs of his sleeves. His gaze pulls Dean in and Cas knows what he’s doing because he smiles as Dean approaches and it makes Dean cross the room that much faster, his hands coming up to pull Cas’ tie the rest of the way open. Cas’ hands rest lightly on Dean’s wrists, holding on as Dean succeeds and opens the knot, gently pulling the silk from around Cas’ neck. 

Cas tips their foreheads together. Dean drops the tie and he can hear a tiny voice muffled against Cas’ ear. He smiles. 

“Yes, Jack, I already told Claire you could have Crunch Cookie Crunch cereal for breakfast. There’s a brand new box in the cabinet but please try to refrain from eating it all before I get back.”

Dean knows Cas wants a bowl of the sugary sweet cereal, that’s why.

“Yes, I know you dislike oatmeal.” He looks at Dean apologetically. “If Claire wants to make you pancakes, she can.” He pauses, eyes rolling up. “I will text her. No, I don’t want to speak—Hello, Claire.” 

Dean starts on the buttons, Cas’ eyes flicking down. 

“Claire.”

Dean can tell he cut her off. He pauses but Cas jerks his head and his hold on Dean’s wrists tightens just a little. Dean starts on the next button, the air between them growing thicker. 

“Claire, I put you in charge. Please save your list of grievances for when I get back and just assume my answer to most of your questions will be _yes._ ” His breath hitches when another button falls open and Dean moves to the next. Dean smirks. 

“Sunday at six. AM… Maybe.” He pauses. “I’ll let you know if there are any changes in my itinerary. No—No Claire, I will not explain.” Dean’s laughing into Cas’ chest. “When I get _home_ ,” he hisses with his own laugh. “Call me if you _need_ something, a real thing, not to choose a movie between you and your brother.” Dean can’t catch his breath and Cas is trying so hard not to laugh. “I love you too, goodnight. Tell Jack—Claire no—Hello Jack, yes, no, I’m fine, please go to bed and don’t fight with your sister. Yes, fine, you can stay up another hour— Jack, I’m going to say goodnight now, I love you,” Cas is holding the phone away from him now, one hand still on Dean. “Okay, goodbye,” he calls before punching the end call button, the photo of a smiling Jack disappearing and the room falling silent. 

Until it’s filled with all the laughter they’ve been holding back, both of them bending in half with it, the absolute insanity of fathering teenagers not at all lost on either of them tonight. Cas is clutching Dean’s wrists and he pulls Dean closer by them, their laughter trailing off into hot breaths that race and skitter across each other’s skin. 

God, Dean’s missed this, he’s missed _Cas,_ and he clutches at him, fumbles with the remaining buttons and doesn’t hesitate to push the damn shirt off Cas’ shoulders once Dean’s got it open. He doesn’t want to miss anything, he doesn’t want to lose this again and he takes his stupid youthful thoughts and puts them behind kisses, kisses to Cas’ cheeks and his mouth and his shoulders and his throat, all while Cas pushes at his flannel and his hips, the flannel falling to the floor moments before the back of Dean’s legs hit the bed.

Cas stills them. “Is this—Are you—” he clears the emotion from his throat. “Can you stay?”

Dean never thought to ask, now that he thinks about it and he’s sorry about that but it’s okay because Cas is asking if he can.

“Can I? I want to.”

Cas’ hand tightens in the folds of Dean’s t-shirt. “I’d like you to.”

“Okay,” Dean replies softly, prompting Cas to unclench and run a hand up Dean’s chest and around his shoulders again, bringing them together for another set of kisses, these a little more hesitant, now that Dean’s staying. Using his other hand, Cas runs his fingers along the waistband of Dean’s pants, pausing to brush against his belt buckle. 

“Shall we get ready for bed, then?” Cas sounds… it can’t be nervous. Dean was ready to get pushed down onto the mattress but if Cas needs a minute, he’s cool with that. He slips his hand around Cas’ wrist, stilling the fingers still sweeping back and forth absently. 

“You tellin’ me I need to brush my teeth, Cas?” he whispers teasingly, hoping to get Cas to relax. 

“It wouldn’t hurt,” he whispers back, the asshole. 

Dean leans in and kisses him, Cas’ mouth opening up to him immediately, his groan hungry when Dean wraps a hand around Cas’ head to kiss him deeper, to hold them closer, until both of them need to breathe again and they break apart, breathless. Dean laces their fingers together and leads Cas over to the small sink outside the bathroom, gesturing for him to go first. 

Cas smiles and digs around in his toiletry kit until he pulls out a red toothbrush wrapped in plastic, presenting it to Dean. “One of the kids always ‘forgets’ their toothbrush,” he says with a fond eye roll and the cutest fucking air quotes Dean’s ever seen, before he slips into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. 

Dad Cas is… endearingly hot. 

Dean stares at his reflection for the first time in a while. He huffs out a laugh because, well, he looks like he’s been having sex all night. The flush is still riding high on his cheeks and his hair is fuckin’ wrecked, sticking up in the back from Cas’ hands. His neck is littered with little red marks and he presses at them, wondering how long they’ll take to fade. He secretly hopes it takes a while. 

Cas comes out and finds him, still staring but now Dean’s attention is all on Cas, on his miles of golden skin that still glows under the bad, neon, hotel lighting, beautiful against the plain white boxers he’s wearing. They’re the only thing Cas is wearing. 

Cas’ body is… incredible. He works out for sure because he’s thick all over, just _all over_ and god, Dean’s gonna get to put his mouth on all of that like, real soon and why the hell is Cas laughing? 

“You can use the restroom now,” he says, amused. Dean blushes and pushes past Cas to hide in there long enough for the burn to leave his cheeks. He strips down and folds his own clothes up, leaving his t-shirt on with his black boxer briefs, especially after the glance he got at Cas’ bod. He’ll feel better taking it off in the dark. 

Dean smiles when he comes out to see Cas has already unwrapped his gifted toothbrush and put toothpaste on it for him. Cas scoots over so Dean can slide in beside him and they both begin to brush. They can’t stop grinning and staring at each other in the mirror, Cas breaking first and spitting his foam out into the sink with a laugh. Dean follows and fills his mouth up with water, tilting his head back to gargle and still not taking his eyes off Cas. He bounces his eyebrows while he’s doing it to make Cas laugh again. 

It works and he hides his pleased smile when he leans over the sink to spit again. Cas is holding his hand out for Dean to take after he wipes his mouth and they only let go when they reach the bed, Cas going for the far side, leaving Dean to move towards the other nightstand. He grins when Cas hands him an extra phone charger and he takes a minute to unplug the shitty clock the hotel has to replace it with his charger cord. His phone lights up briefly when he plugs it in and he can’t help but smile at Emma’s picture. 

Turning back towards the bed tells him Cas did the same, his phone in a little cradle while it charges, Cas’ watch next to it. Together they pull back the soft covers of the bed and climb in. His stomach is full of fluttering nerves now, almost like he doesn’t want to fuck this up. There’s been heat between them all night, pent up from years of wanting and now, now that they have time, it’s like they both want to give the situation the attention it deserves. 

Cas is already reaching for Dean, twisting where he sits to bring them closer, his hands going around Dean’s neck to pull them together. Dean’s hands are everywhere, wanting to skate over every inch of Cas’ body, just to see if all of him is soft, just so he can find out where Cas likes to be touched now and what Dean can do with his hands to make him moan. 

“I always thought about you, Cas,” Dean says as he buries his face into Cas’ shoulder. He’s all muscle and warm skin and he smells like sunshine after a storm and Dean just can’t _say_ that to his face but he needs Cas to know. 

One of Cas’ hands threads through his hair and the other cups his cheek, guiding Dean out of the crook of his neck. “And I, you, Dean,” he confirms before guiding their mouths together for a chaste kiss. “It makes me very happy that we’re together tonight.” 

Tonight. Tonight. Tonight. It’s like a bucket of ice water being dumped on his head when Cas confirms their time limit out loud. It’s not like Dean didn’t know it was coming, real life is a bitch, but damn, hearing it like that sucks. And it’s gonna suck when Cas leaves again to go back to Chicago.

Rather than dwell on it, if they only have tonight, Dean’s gonna make it good for both of them. 

“Me too, Cas,” he breathes out, pressing kisses along Cas’ jaw. He leans down to trail his mouth along Cas’ neck and down to his collarbones where they’re just waiting for Dean to explore them with his tongue. Soft, dark hair is smattered across Cas’ chest and Dean drags his nose through it, and it tickles him, the sensation sending delicious sparks down his spine. 

Cas’ breathing gets heavier and his hand tightens in Dean’s hair when Dean captures one of his nipples between his teeth, teasing it with the tip of his tongue before swirling around the stiff nub. Sucking it into his mouth has Cas making a deliciously broken noise and fuck, Dean wants to hear that again. 

He takes his time exploring Cas’ body; Dean’s waited twenty-five years to taste Cas again and he never truly thought he’d have this chance, ever in his life. He’d accepted that as one of those things, that their paths would never cross again. Twenty-five years is a long time. Dean thinks he’s felt every second without Cas, like a pain you get used to because you’ve had it so long. They spent one year together, but Cas was everything to Dean then, and he’d imprinted himself into Dean’s DNA somehow. 

Being here with him now feels like finding a part of himself Dean hadn’t realized he’d been missing. 

He’s made it to Cas’ hip bones, the sharpness of them under his tongue making his mouth water and Dean bites into Cas’ tight skin, dragging his teeth along the bone. It makes Cas clench his hand, twisting his fingers in Dean’s shirt where he’s clutching Dean’s shoulder, and fuck, fuck, he’s making these whimpering noises that are driving Dean absolutely insane and he presses his forehead to Cas’ stomach, his breath panting and hot against him. 

Cas takes the break to haul Dean up by the shoulder, desperate for him if the way he’s kissing Dean is any indication. He pushes him down into the soft white sheets, and Dean looks up at Cas, holding himself above Dean and staring down at him with such fondness and want, it makes Dean’s whole body hot. Cas ducks down to kiss him and his hands push at Dean’s shirt, pushing it up and exposing his stomach and chest. Dean arches his back and his shirt rides higher, Cas’ mouth coming down to find Dean’s exposed skin. 

God, Cas’ mouth is amazing. He flicks his tongue with just the right amount of pressure, teasing Dean’s nipples and dragging his teeth across Dean’s ribs. Dean twists up to pull his shirt off, knowing the low moonlight will help hide his insecurities. Cas looks beautiful in it too, his hair blue and wild. He lowers his head to dip his tongue into Dean’s belly button and it tickles, Dean’s breathy moan becoming a breathy laugh and Cas smiles against him. 

“You’re still so beautiful, Dean,” he murmurs against Dean’s stomach and fuck. “I want to spend all night re-learning your body.” Cas comes up to capture Dean’s mouth and his words tumble into Dean’s mouth filled with want, need, and years lost between them. He lowers his body to line up with Dean’s and his weight quickens Dean’s breathing. He hitches a leg around Cas, letting him closer and Cas settles their hips together, their cocks slotting beside each other, still covered by cotton but both hard. Dean’s hips tip up and Cas pushes back, still kissing, kissing; it feels like he’s kissing Dean forever while they roll their hips together and find a burning rhythm. 

Cas grinds his hips slow and Dean slides his foot up and down Cas’ leg while they kiss. He falls apart, giving himself over to Cas’ touch and his kiss; sweet, slick lips memorizing Dean’s with every searching press, swallowing all of Dean’s whimpers like they’re something to be cherished. Dean’s moans get lost between their kisses and it’s the hottest, slowest, fucking _sweetest_ way Dean’s ever been fucked and it’s Cas that’s worshipping him. 

“Cas, oh fuck, Cas, yeah,” Dean moans, Cas’ sucking marks shamelessly into Dean’s skin by now, like he’s marking Dean as his, laying claim to Dean... as if Cas ever lost it. Dean’s always been his. “Cas, you feel so good, I’m—close,” he pants, his eyes slamming shut when Cas kisses him hard and increases his weight on top of Dean, pressing him down into the mattress.

“I want you to come for me Dean, please.” Long, thick fingers weave into Dean’s hair and Cas pulls Dean’s head to the side, exposing his neck. “I want to feel you.” Cas noses hard down the line of it, breathing Dean in. “I want to hear you,” he says before biting into the curve of Dean’s throat, and Dean’s coming, fuck, _hard_ , moaning his name when Cas murmurs his praise into Dean’s ear. “Yes, that’s it, you sound gorgeous Dean, come on,” he coaxes him, adding more pressure and another wave of pleasure spreads hot between their bodies. 

Cas forces himself out of the curve of Dean’s neck with a broken, heady sound, and then he’s kissing Dean hard, bruising his mouth and biting his lips and heat spreads between them again when Cas comes, Dean’s name lost in the shout that bursts from Cas’ mouth. To know he’s responsible for Cas’ pleasure, fuck, it’s overwhelming. Dean tightens the hold with his thighs and wraps his arms tight around Cas’ back as Cas collapses his full weight on top of Dean’s spent body. 

Fuck, he’s pure muscle. Dean bets he can fuck him up against a wall, no problem. The shower maybe but that’s pretty dangerous, especially at their age.

Cas rolls off him with a groan, the mess between them already becoming unpleasant. They should have stripped down but honestly, it was kinda hot the way they did it. Dean laughs weakly when he lifts his head and props himself up on his elbows. His underwear is plastered to his dick but shit, it was worth it. He rolls his head over to see Cas grinning at him, his head propped up on one arm. 

They both move towards each other at the same time, both of them laughing into the kiss they share. 

“That was fucking awesome, Cas,” Dean murmurs against Cas’ lips. Cas nips at him. 

“You’re fucking awesome, Dean,” he replies, sliding the tip of his nose back and forth across Dean’s cheek, nuzzling at him. 

“Sticky too,” he says, trying not to drown in the good feelings he gets when Cas says shit like that, deflecting with the obvious. Cas agrees though, kissing Dean again before he rolls off the bed, the muscles in his body just fucking _rippling_ and damn, Dean needs to get to a gym. He gets up, wincing at the mess but finding it easy to ignore because the rest of him feels so damn good. And he loves it when Cas looks over his shoulder to make sure Dean’s coming before he slips into the bathroom. The shower starts and Dean smiles when he sees that Cas left the bathroom door open a crack, hot steam already billowing out. 

Dean’s mouth has that good soreness he hasn’t felt in ages thanks to the kissing they do between washing each other and talking softly, swapping more stories about their kids and laughing at their antics. 

They slip back between the sheets, naked now, their bodies automatically coming together, their arms finding the spaces that fit best, their legs winding together so if Dean were to look, he wouldn’t be able to tell who’s who. 

“Pretty glad Emma rescued the invitation for the reunion from the trash,” he whispers between kisses and Cas huffs out a laugh. 

“I almost didn’t come as well,” he admits. “I think Claire is planning to have a party, she keeps double checking my schedule, even before I left.” Cas shakes his head a bit. “She’s really not a good liar.” He leans in to brush their lips together. “I’m glad I decided to trust her.” 

Dean pulls away with a doubtful eye. “As if Jack won’t tell you,” Dean already applying what he knows about the kid from Cas’ stories. 

The way Cas responds, his whole face shifting into warmth and happiness, makes Dean feel lightheaded with it. He accepts Cas’ kisses with an open and willing mouth, their tongues slipping into an already familiar dance, and Dean doesn’t know how he’s gonna let Cas go after this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Goo Goo Dolls - Iris](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NdYWuo9OFAw) (because of course I did)


	3. Chapter 3

Dean can’t wait to get inside. He’s two turns away from the place Cas rented them for the long weekend, the last hour on the road always the longest part of the trip. At least until Dean has to drive home alone, in the dark, because he’s put off leaving until the last responsible minute, which means he usually doesn’t arrive back in Lawrence until after midnight, sometimes later if he’s feeling clingy. 

Dean’s been making these drives for six months. Six months since their high school reunion, six months since a night together turned into a weekend in bed, Cas taking the last flight out of Kansas City that Sunday night. They parted ways with a plan, a  _ schedule,  _ full of asterisks for pending activities for kids or work events but with specific weekends planned out, strategically spaced out every two to three weeks. 

Turns out, neither of them could bare the thought of leaving the other and Dean’s fears about that were unfounded. 

His grin gets wider when he sees Cas’ silver Dodge Ram truck already parked in the place’s driveway they’re staying. The rental is really cute. It’s someone’s guesthouse, one of those vacation rentals and the private entrance is at the top of a staircase on the outside of the blue house, the garden large and colorful and most likely one of the bigger reasons Cas picked this place. Lights are already burning upstairs.

Dean rolls his eyes at himself, calling this place cute.  _ Cas  _ says things are cute, things like the cat gifs he sends Dean as reaction gifs. Where Cas finds gifs of cats looking happy or cats  _ glaring  _ at him, Dean has no fucking idea but fuck they’re  _ cute,  _ according to Cas. 

His boyfriend is cute too. 

Cas was the first to say it—boyfriend—like it was nothing, ordering Dean a beer at dinner, of all things.

“My boyfriend will take the Pale Ale.” 

They’d both kinda stared at each other after Cas said it and then they went back to their room and didn’t leave the bed again until they had to go back home. Dean still likes to hear Cas say it. 

Yeah, his boyfriend is pretty cute, especially when Dean opens the door to find him swaying his  _ very _ shapely ass to some old song from the fifties. Cas follows all kinds of playlists on Spotify but he favors music from before 1965. 

See, cute. 

The place smells great, like garlic and pasta sauce and Dean realizes how damn hungry he is, having jumped right on the road after clocking out and checking in on Emma and Donna before he started his drive. They were planning out a Harry Potter marathon, and Dean almost asked them to change it to another weekend so he could join, but he figures it won’t take much to get them to do it again when he’s home. 

He knocks, the crack of his knuckles against the wood frame making Cas jump and spin around, sheepish. Dean drops his duffle with a thud and strides across the room to kiss his cute boyfriend like he’s been wanting to do for three and a half damn weeks. 

Cas’ lips are soft and he’s smiling when Dean reaches him, his arms coming around Dean’s waist and settling on his hips like they always do, the two of them fitting together like two halves of a puzzle, both of them tilting their heads to get the deepest kiss they can, right from the jump, both of them starving, desperate for the other. 

They part breathless, Cas touching his lips that hold the smallest of smiles. “Hello, Dean.” 

“Heya, sunshine.” Dean leans in for another soft kiss. “Missed that smile.” 

Cas ducks his head and turns back to his sauce, missing Dean’s wide grin. “There’s plenty of time for a shower. Dinner will be done shortly.” Dean’s sure he smells like grease and sweat and who knows what else coming from the garage, the funky shop odors for sure lingering in his hair. He always likes to shower before Cas has to smell him. 

Dean’s almost disappointed Cas is cooking and he can’t drag him to bed, which is looking mighty tempting in the corner. The damn covers are already turned down, practically calling their names. Dean can’t wait to be between them, naked with Cas wrapped around him. 

His shower is perfect, five stars for the water pressure. Dinner is incredible, meatball subs, one of Cas’ specialties. He told Dean it was the only thing Claire would eat for a month when she was eight so he got really good at his recipe. They’re the best meatball subs Dean’s ever had, for sure. Dean’s happy to do the dishes while Cas tells him about the science project Jack is working on for the Science Club’s fair coming up in a few weeks. He’s building a robot. 

“He’s doing it so the thing can do his  _ chores _ , Dean,” Cas says from behind him where he’s sitting at the breakfast bar and sipping on his third, or fourth glass of red wine. Dean cracked open their second bottle right before he started the dishes. He shakes some suds off so he doesn’t drip, and steps back to lean towards Cas. Cas goes for the kiss but Dean shakes his head and gestures towards the wine with a smirk. 

Cas downs the rest of the glass without taking his eyes off Dean. 

Ass. His boyfriend is an ass. 

Dean turns back to the sink with a shake of his head and reaches in to pull the plug, the water gurgling down the drain while he dries his hands with a towel. He grabs his empty wine glass and turns back to refill both of their glasses, only to be met with Cas already holding the bottle and reaching out to fill Dean’s glass. 

He holds it out, eyebrows raised. 

Cas makes Dean kiss him before he pours even one drop. 

“I think the robot idea is cool, Cas and hell, maybe the kid will invent an actual chore doing robot and you’ll all be rich.” 

“Ah yes, the dream, for my child to invent something that could become autonomous and cause the apocalypse or something.”

Dean rolls his eyes and leans in to kiss his dramatically cute boyfriend. “Or? Oprah rich.” 

“It would certainly help with college costs.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. Emma’s already talking about  _ college tours _ . She’s sixteen!” Dean takes a big,  _ big _ drink. “She wants me to drive her to  _ Boston. _ ”

“University of Iowa has a good Writing Workshop, I’ve read.” Cas sips his wine. “Vonnegut taught a class in one once.” 

“Yeah, but Emerson is the best, she says.” Dean sighs. “That’s pretty awesome about Vonnegut though, I’m gonna have to tell her.” 

He follows Cas to the bed. The room is big, open, enough space for the king size bed and a small hutch, the flat-screen TV above it. The bed points towards the television too so that’s cool, Cas likes to watch the morning news but Dean always has it switched to Scooby-Doo by the time he’s out of the shower.

They both collapse against the headboard with exhausted sighs, Cas just as tired as Dean is, more considering he’s outnumbered at his house. Dean puts his wine on the nightstand and scoots down the bed so he can pull Cas’ feet into his lap, pulling his socks off one by one. Cas’ feet are warm and soft.

“Oh, I missed you,” Cas groans when Dean grips one of his feet and digs his thumbs into the arch. His toes flex and stretch while Dean rubs, his fingers kneading and his thumbs sweeping across the top of Cas’ foot. Cas stretches against the headboard and groans again as Dean digs in. 

Dean grins; he loves to see Cas relax. 

“Did this stretch feel extra long to you? It feels like I haven’t seen you for ages,” Cas’ head rolls to the side, his eyes closed, and his mouth slack as Dean continues to rub his feet. Dean very much agrees and he murmurs it to Cas. 

He keeps going. “After vacation, the kids really started going at it while they were still home and they were driving me up the  _ walls.”  _ He huffs and opens his eyes to grin sheepishly at Dean. “It’s so nice to be back in our routine.”

Only Cas would make it adorable when he admits he’s happy his kids are back in school, just like every other parent in America. 

“Emma wants to get a  _ job _ ,” Dean tells him, glancing up at him with one raised eyebrow. 

“Whatever in the world gave her  _ that _ idea?” 

“I think she’s been talking to Jody’s kid.”

“Alex? I thought she was in nursing school.”

“She _ is, _ that’s the point.” Dean slides his hands up to knead Cas’ calves. It earns him more groans and shuffles as Cas sinks further down in bed. “Told Emma how  _ great _ it was to transfer from our Starbucks to the one closer to her school. Now she wants to ‘establish her employment’,” (yes, Dean stops to do air quotes and no, he doesn’t want to talk about it.) “And her damn argument is so good, how can I say no?” 

“She’s right—oh! Yes, right there,” he moans when Dean presses against a knot in one calf. Freakin’ runners. Luscious thighs but lots of cramps and knots. 

“Did you bring your CBD cream?”

Cas moans. “It’s across the room, it’s fine.”

“You just want a repeat of this tomorrow,” Dean teases, his hands sliding higher up Cas’ leg and around his knee, the hair tickling his palms. He shifts and leans down to lay a kiss to each of Cas’ knees. Cas tripped on a run and had a huge scab the last time Dean saw him and now, the skin is tight and pink where it’s healed. Dean leans down to kiss the scar, and Cas’ hand comes up to cup his head. Dean glances up and finds Cas looking at him fondly. 

Cas tilts the side of his mouth into a small smile. “Emma’s right about the job, baby,” he says and the endearment makes Dean blush and hide his face by pressing his cheek against Cas’ thick thigh, covered by sleep shorts. 

“I know,” he admits because he  _ does _ know, he just  _ isn’t  _ ready. She’s  _ sixteen. _

“Feels fast, doesn’t it?” Cas slides a hand into Dean’s hair. “But she’ll always be your little girl, Dean.” 

Dean stays silent, his fingers playing with the waistband of Cas’s shorts. He doesn’t love talking about his kid growing up and he’d really love to get off the topic of her leavin’ him in the too near future. He slips his hand up Cas’ shirt and rests it on his stomach, the muscles jumping under Dean’s fingertips. Cas sucks in a breath. 

Dean’s suddenly reminded of just how long the last three and a half weeks have felt. Cas must too because he’s putting his wineglass down and cupping Dean’s neck, giving enough of a pull for Dean to move, to press his body against Cas’ and bring their mouths together. Cas’ palm slides to Dean’s jaw and his thumb sweeps across Dean’s cheek while he presses soft, chaste kisses to his mouth. 

Dean’s thankful Cas let the subject drop but Dean knows Cas will always cut him slack, especially on these sorts of things. He’s going through it with Claire now and it’s so fuckin’ nice to have someone to talk to that  _ gets _ it. Hell, it’s nice to have someone to talk to, period. Dean’s always had Donna, Sam of course, but Dean hates to bug him with his petty shit and Donna doesn’t want to hear about what Dean had for lunch. 

But Cas asks him what he had for lunch, breakfast too. Usually because he’s already sending Dean pictures of his food, or of the kids having breakfast (always looking at their phones). They talk and text about everything and anything, pretty much all day. They’d talked for an hour in the car while Dean was still on the road. Cas had been at the market buying their food for the weekend. 

All that and Dean still can’t get enough.

“Missed you, Cas,” Dean murmurs between kisses. He slides a hand through Cas’ hair. “Missed this crazy hair.” He grabs a handful of Cas’ shirt. “Missed this stupid bee shirt.” 

“Hey,” Cas protests, barely. 

Dean increases the intensity of their kiss before he breaks it. “Missed these sweet lips.” 

“I think you’re trying to tell me something.”

Dean sinks his teeth into Cas’ plump bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth before letting it go. “Missed that smart mouth, believe it or not.”

Cas’ laugh is gorgeous and yup, Dean missed that too. He grins as he pushes himself up so he can bracket Cas’ gorgeous thighs with his knees, all the while pulling off the stupid shirt with the bee wearing sunglasses and  _ BEE COOL _ across the chest, a gift from Jack like, eight Father’s Day’s ago. It’s soft and worn and Dean got at it with a needle and thread once to stitch the holes Cas was  _ ignoring _ in the armpits and well, Dean loves the stupid fucking shirt okay? 

He loves the dumbass bee shirt and he throws it on the ground once he manages to wrestle Cas out of it. Cas peers at him because his smile is so wide and his hair’s sticking up in dark peaks, one in the back and one on the side; Dean loves the grey hair peppered in at Cas’ temples. It makes him look so fuckin’ sexy. 

The salt and pepper goes for the stubble too and Dean loves that Cas stopped shaving, probably a day ago so it’s thick by now. Not a beard, but just enough for Dean to see the silvery hairs that grow with the dark ones and fuck, Dean loves how it burns dragging across his skin. 

That cute squint has turned into a pout and Cas pushes at Dean’s shirt. “Off.” 

“You can’t do it?” Dean slides his hands up Cas’ chest, loving the way his chest hair feels. Dean spotted a grey or two in there too but Cas is having enough trouble with the one’s he’s got. He keeps tellin’ Cas it’s hot AF but Cas is still a little self conscious about it. 

Dean’s really starting to get warm from all that wine. 

“You’re sitting on me.” 

“Fine,” Dean huffs. “I was hot anyway,” he mutters, hoping his words are muffled by his shirt as he pulls it off. The pinch Cas gives his hip tells him otherwise, but he loves it because Cas slides his hand up Dean’s side, tickling his ribs and it makes Dean huff out a laugh and nudge Cas’ hand with his arm. “Tickles.” 

“Mmhmmm,” Cas murmurs back, reaching up and wrapping his hand around Dean’s shoulder to pull him down beside him, both of them settling down on top of the sheets. Dean slips a knee between Cas’ legs as Cas trails his fingers up and down Dean’s arm. It makes his breath quicken, the way goosebumps rise against Cas’ touch, the small smile and spark of delight in Cas’ eyes it earns him. 

Dean loves him. 

Something in Dean’s throat tightens. That’s gotta be what this is, right? What else could explain the absolutely helpless way Dean feels when it comes to Cas? He knows he’d do anything to make Cas happy and it makes him feel… helpless. Because there’s nothing he  _ wouldn’t _ do. And the only people he loves that unconditionally, in a way he’d step in front of a bullet if it meant sparing them, are Emma and Sam and now, Cas. And by extension, his kids. Because Dean’s fallen in love with them too, just by the way Cas loves them. 

Dean loves that Claire likes to watch the news with Cas in the mornings while she drinks coffee and Cas drinks tea and he loves that Jack only likes grape jelly on his PB&Js, just like his dad. Cas finds jam “unsettling.” 

The idea that he loves two kids he’s never even met  _ really _ knocks Dean on his ass. 

He falls back into the sheets with a huff of incredulous laughter, his hand coming up to the top of his head. Cas props himself up on his elbow and leans over him, worried. He brings his hand to Dean's chest. 

“Dean? Are you okay?” 

Dean clasps his hands over Cas’ and rolls his head to look at Cas and Dean’s eyes burn, unshed tears in his eyes and a hesitant smile on his face because this is a lot and fuck knows how it’s gonna go but—it’s going. 

“I just—I’m really in love with you.” 

Cas’ eyes widen and he pulls back some which makes Dean’s heart race but he’s said the words so, he’s doing this. There’s no going back now.

He holds Cas’ hand tighter. 

“It’s okay if you’re not there yet, I just—I love you, you should know that. And you should know it scares me too, okay?” Dean says it in a rush, Cas’ wide eyes really freaking him out as Dean babbles like an idiot. But he’s an idiot in love, apparently because he just can’t seem to shut up, regardless of Cas’ silence that’s making his stomach hurt, the longer he tries to fill it. 

“You just—you make every damn day better, Cas. All of um’” Dean does a half shrug, trying to distract from the tear that slips down his face, the coolness dripping down his temple and into his ear. “You and your kids.” 

Cas’ face softens, all the apprehension, or fear, or whatever Dean could see going across Cas’ face gone now. It causes all that adrenaline building in Dean’s veins to flood them and make him weak and Dean can only stare and fall deeper the longer he gets to spend in Cas’ eyes until he’s being kissed, kissed until he’s breathless and feeling like he’s within an inch of his life.

“I love you, Dean.” Kiss. “I love you, so much.” Another. “I love Emma, hearing your wonderful stories, I feel like I know her.” A deeper kiss this time, long enough for their mouths to open to each other. “I even love Donna and her wife and—and—everything, Dean. Everything.” 

The way Cas kisses him fills every single part of him with that love, Dean can feel it overflowing, he knows he’s gonna drown in it, drown in Cas’  _ love _ , for  _ him, _ of all the goddamn people on the planet to give it to, Dean’s hardly worthy. But Cas thinks he is, Cas insists he is with the way he touches Dean, with the way he puts all of his admiration and love for him behind every single touch.

Dean soaks him in, opens his mouth to Cas’ sweeping tongue, groaning when Cas tears himself away to bury his face into the curve of Dean’s neck, his mouth still pressed against him, hot kisses covering his neck. “I wish—” Cas is panting. “I always—” A burst of pleasure wrapped in a delicious moan cuts off his words and Dean wants them, he wants Cas’ confession more than anything he can ever remember wanting before. 

He pulls Cas closer to him, so close his heat warms Dean too, the salt of his skin making Dean’s mouth water as he licks it from his lips. “Tell me, Cas,” he begs, surprised at the roughness of his own voice. “I want you to,” the word are lost by his own groan as Cas sucks sharply at his throat. 

“I imagine you with us,” Cas bursts out and Dean’s heart rockets into his throat because it’s a feeling he’s all too familiar with. “You—you and Emma, with us, all the time,” Cas sounds raw, like he’s been suffocated by the words for too long. “Now kiss me,  _ please, _ ” Cas asks, begs, and Dean has to, he has to give Cas everything, all of him, whatever he wants and whatever Dean can give for as long as Cas will let him. Forever, if Dean has a say. 

The idea makes his breath stutter, but he finds himself sure the moment Cas says his name on a cherished whisper, making Dean feel real and loved, and fuck, a million different things. Cas spends the rest of the night confirming Dean’s revelations with his mouth, his fingers, all of him. Dean does the same, returning his reverence with every single touch and kiss he gives back. 

They spend hours making love, through the night and well into the early morning, not stopping until both of them are fully sated and wrapped around each other in the soft blue light of dawn. The room stays dim as they drift off and Dean’s happy and it’s leaking out everywhere between them. He’s drunk on it. 

“I love you,” Cas whispers, filling the last bit of space between them and making Dean think maybe Cas is drunk on him too. 

Another brush of their lips together, neither of them knowing who leaned in first or if they were just always meant to meet in the middle, over and over again. 

He nuzzles Cas, rubs their noses together before he settles into the crook of Cas’ neck, his lips resting against collarbones, bitten and bruised from Dean’s attention. “So in love with you, Cas,” he murmurs back. 

Somehow they get closer, their legs hitching higher where they’re intertwined, and Dean falls asleep with one of Cas’ hands tangled in his hair, the other laced with his own and tucked against his chest. 

Its hours until they’re both slow to wake, muscles sore but satisfied, lips swollen but eager to get back to work mapping each other’s bodies before they have to say goodbye again. 

Always with the adios. 

Fuck, Dean hates it. He refuses to acknowledge the ticking clock looming over their time together, knowing how fast the next thirty-six hours will go. He stretches his naked leg over his not-really awake boyfriend instead, rubbing against the curve of Cas’ ass with his knee, prompting Cas to bury his face into the pillow with a muffled groan, dark hair flopping onto the sheets. Dean buries his nose in it and hums, breathing in all the good smells that come with him, that minty tea tree scent from his shampoo and the clean smell of the detergent he uses to clean his sheets and clothes. 

“Why do you always smell so good,” Dean asks, taking another big whiff. 

Cas shakes his head a few times while Dean snuffles around until he tips his face out of the pillow to answer. “Regular showers, you should consider them.” 

Oh great, a comedian. 

Dean slows his burrowing and tightens his leg, and his grip on Cas’ hip. “That so?” He has the decency to at least  _ ask  _ Cas if he’s sure and give him an appropriate moment to answer before Dean’s tickling the  _ shit _ out of him, his fingers pressing right into the spot under Cas’ arm that makes him squirm and also gasp with laughter. Cas attempts to get free but jokes on his smartass boyfriend because Dean’s grip is firm and he’s merciless, not stopping until Cas is begging for forgiveness and assuring Dean he always smells amazing and that he appreciates how much he does so he doesn’t have to smell the shop. 

Dean lets him go at that. 

“You noticed?” 

“Of course, Dean,” Cas pants, still catching his breath from Dean’s tickles, but now turning around to lay under him. “You don’t smell  _ that _ terrible, most of the time. You mostly smell like your car, come to think of it.”

“And you love riding in Baby!” 

“I do,” he murmurs and the words make Dean blush and want things he’s never said out loud. “And I love you, too.” 

“Are you only saying that because you don’t want me to keep ticklin’ you?” Dean dips down to kiss Cas’ sweetness straight from its source. “Because it’s not gonna work.” 

He drops the quickest kiss to Cas’ nose before he’s tickling him again, his fingers raking up and down Cas’ sides as he squirms and tries to get an edge, only managing because his thighs are massive and strong and he uses them to pin Dean so he can flip them and take the upper hand. 

Which Dean finds all  _ kinds  _ of hot. He grins mischievously up at Cas, who’s hovering over him with a matching smirk and instead of retaliating like Dean deserves, Cas leans in and kisses him, soft, slow, deep. Like he’s got forever to do it. 

Hands wander while they kiss each other the rest of the way awake, familiar touches that Dean aches for when he’s alone in his bed and Cas is five hundred miles away. The idea of him being that far away from Dean makes Dean kiss Cas a little harder, makes him put a little more desperation and need behind each press of his lips. 

Cas responds, more of his weight shifting to press Dean down, the sharpness of his hips rubbing against Dean, their thickening cocks sliding together, another familiar motion Dean misses and one he thinks about a lot when he’s alone.

Except Cas makes a noise that doesn’t usually mean he’s turned on… more like, disgusted—which no guy wants to ever hear. Dean pauses.

“Sorry, we need a shower. I’m sticky.”

So much for his boner. He takes Cas’ guard being down to push him over and back into the sheets so Dean can roll over him and yup, Cas is right, he’s sticky in unpleasant places. He powers through and pushes himself off the bed, the hardwood cold beneath his bare feet. Dean holds a hand out and Cas takes it, lets himself be pulled out of bed and led to the shower, a lazy hand coming around Dean’s hip that doesn’t let go even as Dean turns on the water. Cas gets even more clingy as they wait for it to heat and they stand there quietly, enjoying the sound of the water and Cas’ wandering hands and lips that trail kisses across the back of Dean’s neck, making goosebumps break out all over his body. 

He walks them into the shower and lets Cas push him under the hot water, his hair and face tipped under the stream, soaking him before he keeps moving so Cas can get a nice dose over him. Dean turns in his arms and tips Cas’ mouth to his so they can exchange soaking wet kisses. Cas’ tongue slips inside Dean’s mouth and hands push at his hips until Dean’s pressed against the still cold tile. It makes him pull away and hiss but Cas is insistent and he shakes his head, taking Dean’s mouth back in a possessive kiss. 

Dean’s lungs are begging for air when Cas finally relents and moves on to mouth at Dean’s jaw, his clever tongue making Dean’s stomach do somersaults. 

“After our shower, will you please make us waffles? I bought what you need and I saw a waffle iron when I was making dinner.” 

Cas just talks to him like, fucking  _ nothing,  _ like they aren’t naked and thisclose to fucking or at least, hand jobs—or, or—

“Dean.”

Cas’ tone gets Dean to focus at least, clearing the water and the heat and the kissing from his mind some. Enough to tell Cas he’ll make him whatever the hell he wants if he goes back to doing what he was doing with his mouth. 

“In a moment. I want to wash us and then I’m going to blow you.” 

Dean’s dick jumps to attention. 

“Oh—Okay, Cas,” Dean stutters. Fucking Cas, he makes Dean lose his goddamn mind. Cas just leaves him leaning against the shower wall while he pours the body wash he brought into a washcloth, the scent of almonds filling the shower. Smells like Cas and Dean smiles when Cas pulls him closer so he can wash Dean himself, his hands sweeping over Dean’s shoulders, down his arms and up again so he can wash Dean’s throat and chest, washing any remains of last night’s fun and Cas’ own release from Dean’s body. 

Dean can’t fucking wait to get dirty again. And fuck yeah, Cas is gonna give him a BJ in the shower which is basically one of Dean’s favorite things. The soap has them all slippery and Cas has him all horny and fuck, Dean thinks breathing is overrated when Cas sinks to his knees, a hand already wrapped around Dean’s dick and he strokes him slow, torturously slow. It’s agonizing and Cas knows what he’s doing—he’s smirking and all Dean can do is groan and be patient, his toes flexing on the tile as he fidgets and waits.

“Thank fuck,” he moans, so so thankful when Cas finally pulls the head of Dean’s cock into his mouth, sucking gently, his tongue wrapping around and dipping into Dean’s slit and fucking  _ hell, _ Cas’ mouth should be illegal. 

Cas pulls off him and chuckles, mouthing down Dean’s shaft with these little huffs and groans that drive Dean absolutely crazy and “I even bought strawberries,” is Cas’ last fucking comment before he’s swallowing Dean down, all the way until his nose brushes into the light curls at the base of Dean’s cock. Dean can feel him inhale and fuck, it makes Dean moan and slip a hand into Cas’ hair. Cas pulls off, his mouth wet and his throat swallowing before he sucks Dean back down, over and over until he can barely hold himself up anymore, Cas having to press his arm across Dean’s middle to keep him vertical. 

A skilled tug on his balls and a finger pressing against his ass has Dean shooting all over Cas’ face, Cas going for his head to swallow what he can, his tongue writhing against Dean’s still coming cock and making Dean clench his fingers in Cas’ hair.

They both groan when Cas pulls off him and stands to kiss Dean, come still on his lips that Dean laps at greedily, tasting himself and wanting more, ready to drop to his knees to get it but Cas is already coming, this time choking on Dean’s name as hot splashes hit Dean’s hip and stomach, Cas’ hand rubbing it into his skin before the water washes it away.

Dean grabs Cas’ chin and licks the tip of his nose before tilting his face towards the spray of water, washing himself away. Cas works his jaw and peers at him with as much of a proud grin as he can. He leans against Dean and kisses his jaw. 

“Waffles.” 

The waffles are good—great according to Cas. They cover them with whipped cream and strawberries, most of which gets smeared and licked off chests, until Dean adds the syrup which would put them back in the shower for sure so instead they eat, Dean only having to stab Cas with his fork a few times for trying to steal pieces of his waffle. Dean stuffs two pieces in his mouth before he tips what’s left onto Cas’ plate anyway, kissing the top of his head on his way to the kitchen to make his man some more waffles. 

They take them back to bed and Cas flicks on the news and pulls Dean into his arms, settling them both into the mound of pillows, Dean’s back pressed to Cas’ chest. Cas feeds him bits of waffle, always covered in whipped cream because that’s Dean’s favorite and sometimes he drags some across Dean’s shoulder, just so he can lick it off and he just does this while he idly comments on current events and how does he do this to Dean? Make doing nothing feel like absolutely everything? 

Cas is going off about Trump and the latest dumbass thing he’s done and he’s making Dean laugh because Cas keeps calling him a  _ stupid fucking moron _ and Cas never really cusses so it’s hilarious and Dean’s still laughing because Cas is still ranting even as the next story starts, a story about the English premier of the newest Fantastic Beasts movie. 

Dean’s laughter fades as he watches the smiling kids cheering for the actors walking the red carpet and he thinks about the pre-ordered tickets in his inbox for the midnight premiere for him and Emma that Dean bought, just last week. Emma’s been talking non stop about it for the last six months. Her loyalties lie with the original stories but she enjoyed the newest movie and wants to see the series through. Dean loves the way she thinks about this stuff. 

Cas and his kids were going too, Jack having taken an interest and according to Cas, somehow got Claire to read them to him and turn them both into fans. Dean knew all this when he went to order his tickets and he stared at his computer screen for two hours, watching the cursor blink next to ‘number of tickets’ box for way too long. Everything inside him wanted to type in five. And not two. 

Not that two was  _ bad.  _ Two was fucking  _ great. _ Dean  _ loves _ two. 

But there’s something about five that’s damn appealing, truth be told and the more Dean considers the way he feels about Cas, the more he imagines two becoming five and knowing Cas imagines them together too means there's only one giant hurdle they have to cross first. 

Their kids gotta meet. 

Their kids gotta meet and actually like each other. Cas’ kids have to like  _ him _ . 

He’s totally fucked. 

“You know, my rants lose their effectiveness when you stop listening,” Cas comments, breaking Dean out of his daze. 

“Sorry, babe.”

“Where’d you go?” Cas plants little kisses across Dean’s naked shoulder. 

Dean pulls away, putting their now empty plate on the nightstand and turning off the TV, Cas’ eyes widening as he watches, going with no resistance when Dean pulls him down into the sheets. Cas lets him get it together and Dean all but hides his face under the blankets, leaving his eyes to peek out when he asks.

“Do you think it’s time for our kids to meet?” 

Cas goes solid, like stone. Dean’s never  _ seen _ a person freeze before. Heard the turn of phrase sure but Cas actually does it. 

“Is it too soon? It’s too soon, that’s why you look so freaked. M’sorry Cas, it’s okay if it’s too soon just tell me to shut up—” 

“Dean. Shut up.” 

When Dean was babbling and regretting all his life choices, he had slammed his eyes shut but when Cas tells him to shut up, Dean has to take a peek. He cracks one eye open to see Cas looking much more relaxed, much less like Han trapped in carbonite. Makes Dean feel safe enough to open both eyes anyway. 

“I think you may be right,” Cas says hesitantly, like he’s kinda sure? “Six months is certainly long enough for me to know I love you, and I love Emma.” His voice gains confidence which helps Dean feel better about opening his mouth. The rest of Cas’ tension melts away as a smile spreads across his face. “You love us,” he says, like he’s reminding them both.

“I do,” Dean answers, meaning it in more ways than one. He grins when Cas pushes the blankets away from separating them. His arms go around Dean’s neck and he presses their foreheads together. 

“Does Emma know about me?” 

“She does.”

Cas leans back to look at him. “She does?” 

“She knows enough.”

They’d decided during their first weekend together that they’d let their kids know they were both “seeing someone”, as Cas puts it. Dean already knew Emma suspected  _ something  _ when he got home and Donna knew it was Cas so Dean just came clean and told his daughter everything, about their past and about Dean’s  _ feelings _ which Emma just about had a field day with. Said she wrote something called a drarry meet cute about it? Sometimes she speaks in fanfic and Dean gets lost but it makes her happy so it’s fine. 

It makes getting away for their weekends easy, anyway. 

“She says I come home glowing, but she hasn’t bugged me about meeting you, doesn’t bug me about this at all, actually.” 

“So you’re forthcoming with her, about us.”

“Us, you and me? Or us as in you and the kids?” 

Cas furrows his brow and considers Dean’s questions before he answers. “I meant you and me but both, I suppose?” 

“I mean, yeah.” Dean plays with the soft hair on Cas’ chest, staring at his throat and watching it work up and down. “She gets the gist, sometimes I tell her the really funny stories.”

“Like what?” 

Dean considers Cas’ question. Him and his kids are a part of Dean’s every day, even by extension, so he feels like he’s talking about them a lot. He smirks. 

“Like when you all went driving the other day.”

Cas narrows his eyes. He’d taken Jack out to practice his driving and Claire came along and the way Cas tells it, Jack stubbornly refused to listen to him, only taking Claire’s advise. Cas wasn’t pleased at how well Jack did as a result, despite being incredibly proud at how well he took to it.

“She learned from me, so by extension—” 

Dean huffs out a laugh and kisses Cas quiet. He’s heard this story before and it’s why he finds it so funny. And why he finds his boyfriend still so cute. 

“She was on your side,” Dean informs him, still smiling. “Said sometimes you can’t win against the sibling bond.” She should know, watching Dean argue with Sam forever. 

That pleases Cas and he nods. “That’s my girl.” 

The words cut Dean down to the core. Right down to the deepest part of him, the part where Emma has only ever belonged to  _ him, _ a place he’s done everything to protect. Cas says that and every wall Dean’s ever built around him and Emma come crumbling down and Dean knows for a fact it’s gonna be Cas that helps him rebuild them except this time, it’ll be to protect them all. The idea fills him with light.

“I really want you to meet her, Cas,” he whispers, his confession as raw as his feelings. “I want her to meet you. She’s always teasin’ me about smiling at my phone.” Dean noses at Cas’ cheek, feeling Cas’ wide smile. “Want her to see why.” 

Cas shuts Dean up with his mouth, both of them smiling wide like idiots. Dean lets himself be kissed a lot, for a while, because he likes it, and finally Cas pulls back, still smiling. 

Dean licks his swollen lips. “I think you’re trying to tell me something.” 

Cas’ gummy smile and stuttering laughs fill Dean with a joy that knocks out the rest of his apprehension and Dean makes it his mission to swallow them all and keep them for himself which means he has to spend the rest of their time together making Cas laugh between their white sheets just as often as they groan each other’s names until they say goodbye again, but this time with a plan for their families to meet. 


	4. Chapter 4

It’s—bad. So bad. It’s a disaster. No, disaster is putting it nicely. It’s a train wreck; the big industrial kind, where the boxcars get scattered all over the tracks and you can’t look away. 

They’d decided to take the kids bowling and then for pizza. Google _All American family dinner date_ and it’s on every single list. What know-it-all Google couldn't have predicted is how both their girls refused to wear the shoes, declaring other people’s feet disgusting. Jack couldn’t find a bowling ball that didn’t hurt his fingers but Cas had already warned Dean that Jack wasn’t having a great day to begin with, citing a fight over undone chores just that morning as the reason. 

They played one game and bailed. Dean doesn’t even know who won. 

The pizza place wasn’t much better. They forgot to account for little league season and the place was packed, tiny baseball players running around screaming and stepping on each other and smelling like a hundred kids who just played hours of baseball in the afternoon sun. 

They waited too long for a table to eat food that wasn’t even good while their kids stayed glued to their phones as their dad’s stared at each other and silently freaked the fuck out while making pathetic attempts at getting them to interact. 

Which didn’t work. 

Dean tried not to panic. He tried the whole way home, a ride Emma slept through which he was grateful for, because Dean was fucking _panicking._ It was a terrible idea and it was Dean’s fault; it was too soon, obviously, and now what? 

The entire drive home, Dean thought about it, and when they got home, he paced around his bedroom until Cas got home and called him. It was that conversation and many that followed that prompted Dean to book them a room at a hotel halfway between them for the very next weekend. 

Cas thought maybe they should take a break. 

Dean almost drove all the way to Chicago to tell Cas to his face that that was the absolute worst thing Dean could think of for them to do. 

Cas had only said it the once and then took it back immediately but now it was out there. All week, it was all Dean could think about as he went through the motions, distracted, his mind constantly on the idea of going back to a life without Cas, without his kids, without their weekends together and their phone calls and photos and no—no, that’s why they’re meeting. Dean can’t live without Cas and all the little things him and his kids bring to Dean and Emma’s life. 

He’s zipping his duffle shut, mentally going through his packing checklist again, when Emma knocks on the jam of his bedroom door.

“Daddy? Can I come in?” Emma’s looking at him, a small, hesitant smile on her face when Dean looks up. She’s been gentle with him since The Date That Shall Not Be Named, doing all her chores and homework without their usual ribbing over it and she’s been making dinner before he gets home every day this week. Tonight she was making tacos when he got home and she holds a plate out for him now. 

“I brought you some dinner, before you get on the road.” 

Dean softens and takes the plate. “Thanks, baby girl,” he says, opening his arm for her to slip into his embrace. He kisses the top of her head before he takes a bite of the first taco. 

Damn, he taught his daughter well. Dean finishes the first and half of the second taco under Emma’s watchful eye but that seems to satisfy her because she turns towards his bathroom as he finishes the second one. 

“Did you pack that book I gave you for Claire?” 

Dean nods towards his duffle, his mouth full. Emma had given it to him this morning over breakfast, at the same time explaining that her and Claire had exchanged Snapchat accounts and had been talking all week. The book was one of Emma’s favorites, Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell. Emma explained they were exchanging favorites so Cas might have a book for her too. 

It probably didn’t seem like much to their daughters, but this meant the world to Dean. And to Cas when he called him after he dropped Emma off at school. Cas had no idea the girls had continued talking either. 

“Did you remember your multivitamin?” 

Dean scowls, but he nods. He’s fine with the daily vitamin but did Emma have to get him the bottle that has _Silver_ on the box? She called it age appropriate. Dean’s ass. 

“I’m all set, daughter,” he reports. “You sure you’re okay with this?” Usually when they have a weekend, it’s been on the calendar for a long time and plans are in place. Emma stays at Donna’s or Alex sleeps over their house but this weekend, Donna and Jody are at a sheriff's conference up in Minnesota, which means the girls will be home alone. 

“It’s fine, dad. Alex will be here soon, we’re gonna watch movies and eat a bunch of tacos and go to bed. Wild and crazy teenager stuff.” She picks at the stitching on Dean’s duffle and she won’t look at him. Dean puts his now empty plate on the bed and pulls her into a tight hug. 

“Anything else on your mind?” 

“No,” she mumbles into his chest, her nose pressing into him. “I’m fine.”

He tips her chin up to look into matching green eyes that are brimming with tears. “That’s my line, Em.” 

She laughs and a few tears fall. Dean thumbs at them and waits, his heart beating fast, his mind racing, hoping Cas hasn’t left yet because Dean doesn’t want him to have to turn around if Dean needs to cancel. 

“Will you be able to fix it?” 

It’s literally the last thing Dean expects her to say. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t try harder, daddy, at dinner? I could have. Maybe if I did, you and Cas wouldn’t be fighting now and—” 

Oh, fuck. 

“Hey, Emma, hey—” Dean shakes his head. “No, baby, stop. This isn’t your fault, god no. It just didn’t mesh, it happens. You’re too young to have gone on bad dates but _trust me_ when I say—” 

“Dad.” 

“Sorry.” He wipes her face with one hand, her cheeks now wet with tears. “Please don’t cry. Me and Cas aren’t fighting, we just gotta talk this out.” 

“Sorry, I know you hate doing that.”

Dean huffs. “First of all, stop apologizing You didn’t do anything wrong. And B: Cas makes me talk about my feelings or else he doesn’t—” Dean clears his throat around a heavy pause. “He doesn’t let me have the last waffle.”

Emma sniffs and wrinkles her nose. “Gross, dad, please.” 

“Get a tissue, snuffles,” he tells her, spinning her towards his bathroom and giving her a push. “Let me worry about this grown up stuff okay?” 

Dean doesn’t want her to see he’s worried, that he’s been worried all week. He doesn’t know why he bothers, seeing as he clearly sucks at hiding it since his daughter has been thinking this was her fault the whole time. She did something similar when she was around ten years old, blaming herself for not having a mom. 

That’s when they found a therapist for the both of them. It might be time for Dean to make an appointment for her with Dr. Harvell again. 

Emma comes out of the bathroom, blowing her nose and shaking her head. Her eyes are rimmed red and Dean hates to see it. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can stay.” He nods and reaches for his bag. “I’ll stay.”

“No! That’s the opposite of what would make me feel better, dad.” She throws away her dirty tissue and snatches his bag off the bed, making for the door. “You’re going.”

Dean’s shoulders sag and his head falls to the side, watching his headstrong daughter take off with his overnight bag. He makes sure he has his phone and can hear Emma already slamming through their screen door to get Dean’s bag in the Impala. Sure enough, he hears the squeak of her door as he heads down the hall. 

She’s waiting next to the car as he trots down the porch steps, the driver door open for him. “Text me when you get there. Or if you need ideas for our next family date.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “You want there to be a next time?” He does. Dean thinks he’ll try forever if Cas lets him, that’s how bad he wants this to work. That’s how much he believes in them. 

Now he just needs Emma to be sure. 

“He makes you really happy,” she says, quietly. “You get this smile I’ve never seen before when you talk about him; it’s nice.” Emma’s shy now, and Dean crushes her in a hug. He loves her, so much. She’s his entire heart and soul and she’s willing to make room for someone else to join her there. “I want you to be happy, daddy.” She shrugs in his arms. “Cas makes you happy.” 

“Cas makes me happy, _too.”_ She pulls back and Dean makes sure she’s looking in his eyes when he goes on. “ _You_ are my happiness, being your dad has been the best thing to ever happen to me, you know that?”

She nods, another tear slipping down her cheek. Dean wipes it away. “You’ll always come first and if it was just me and you forever, I’d be the happiest man alive.”

“Do you love Cas?”

Dean nods because Emma deserves to keep hearing the truth. If she asked him to give Cas up, he’d do it for her but doing so would tear him to pieces, and she needs to know that too before she asks. 

Thankfully, all his perfect daughter does is smile wide, a smile Dean’s loved since she flashed her first one at him after a rousing game of peek-a-boo when she was three months old. Dean’s been living for them ever since. 

“Then go, dad. Get your Happy Ever After.”

He tilts his head. “I’m happy with the one I’ve got, you know?”

“But with Cas and Claire and Jack, it could be happier for _all_ of us.” 

Emma always makes a damn fine argument. She waves at him in the rear view until he turns off their street and Dean swears, he’s gonna fix this. Emma’s support is all he needs.

It gets him through the next four hours, that’s for sure. Cas hasn’t called, he usually does when they’re driving and Dean’s pacing up and down in their suite for a good forty-five minutes before the lock beeps on the door and he can finally fucking relax. 

Call him an asshole but he’s kind of relieved to see that Cas looks as bad as Dean feels. The bags under his eyes have bags and his hair is in disarray, and not the fun sex mused kind. He abandons his wheely suitcase as the door clicks shut behind him, his long strides and Dean’s own bringing them together faster. 

Cas yanks at Dean’s clothes, claws at his heart and Dean tries to do the same, tries to get inside of Cas, get under his skin so Cas _can’t_ just give this up, give _him_ up, give _them_ up. No, Dean can’t do that now. Never again. 

He bites at Cas’ throat, feeling his heart beat as he tongues Cas’ pulse point, the high-pitched whine breaking loose from Cas’ mouth urging him on. They belong together, Dean’s known it, it’s the only stupid thing he’s ever been sure of, even when he didn’t even have it, even when he didn’t think he’d _ever_ get it back. 

But he did. They did. And now Dean isn’t gonna let something as stupid as one bad dinner keep them apart. Cas has to know they are worth more than that and if he doesn’t, Dean will show him. 

He strips Cas down and then takes him apart, dipping his tongue into every curve and crease of Cas’ body until he’s open, and warm, and ready for Dean to sink into and when he does, Dean swears the entire universe shifts around them, parting around Cas’ sweet moans as Dean slides in and out of him, slow and burning hot inside and out. 

God, Cas’ ass is sweet, cupped in Dean’s hands as he fucks into him, Cas bent in half under him, Dean pressed against his back so he can tell Cas all the ways he worships him as he rolls his hips. Sloppy kisses and wet bites against Cas’ golden skin make it hard for Dean to stop, but Cas is buckling under his pleasure and sagging against the arm Dean has around his chest so he pulls Cas up, sucking the curve of Cas’ neck into his mouth and taking Cas in his hand, jacking his hard, wet cock with slow drags, his grip tight, his thumb sweeping over the head the way Cas likes. 

“Dean, please,” Cas begs, making Dean want to hear more. It makes him want to be wanted. _Needed._

“Tell me what you want,” he whispers, pressing his mouth against the softness under Cas’ ear. Cas whines when Dean lets his breathing go ragged and hot there. He strokes Cas faster. “Tell me,” he coaxes, using his words, his hands, his mouth. 

Hands tangle in Dean’s hair. “I want you—I want you to come inside me,” Cas begs around broken moans the closer Dean brings him to orgasm. “I want to feel it, I want to be full of you.” 

“Yeah, Cas, yeah,” Dean huffs, the fire in his belly burning hotter with each of Cas’ confessions. He lays them down in the sheets, one arm under Cas, supporting his neck and the other holding his leg open so Dean can fuck into him, Cas falling into his embrace and baring his neck for Dean. His mouth is already there and Cas sinks a hand into Dean’s hair while his other wraps around his own cock, stroking and stroking himself until Dean takes over, his hand slipping up and down, the other clenching Cas’ thigh hard enough to leave fingerprint shaped bruises there that Dean will proudly kiss tomorrow. 

“I want you, Cas, want you always,” Dean pants, close to the edge and toppling over when Cas cries Dean’s name out as he paints his stomach white, coating Dean’s palm and fingers with his spend, his chest and stomach heaving as he sucks in air. He chants Dean’s name with each of Dean’s thrusts, loud at first but trickling down into a whimper as Dean slows his hips, his cock softening as they both come down from their orgasms. 

Cas is quiet, eyes closed, as Dean peppers kisses against the curve of his shoulders, his cock slipping from Cas’ spent body. He lets Dean clean him and he watches with hooded eyes, moves however Dean wants him to move so Dean can wipe him down and Dean does it as quickly as he can, tossing the dirty towel into the corner. 

Cas is waiting to nuzzle into him and Dean lets him, needs it too, now that they gave over to the building fear and uncertainty they’ve both been drowning in all week. It’s like Cas has been waiting for the release, waiting to be right where he is when Dean pulls him straight into his arms and Cas falls asleep, following a soft kiss to Dean’s chin. 

It takes Dean longer to follow, but Cas’ snores are like a balm to his frazzled mind. They can’t give this up. They _can’t._ It wouldn’t be fair, after building two separate lives in separate places, after they found each other again, after they both figured out they could actually make this _work._

Dean isn’t gonna give up that easy. 

Their sleep is restless and when Dean wakes in the morning, Cas isn’t there. His heart almost beats out of his chest and he’s halfway to the door, hopping on one foot trying to pull on pants when he sees Cas’ rolling suitcase still in the closet. 

He’s hopping on one foot trying to get his pants _off_ when Cas comes back into the room, sweating through his running clothes and holding two cups of coffee, a white pastry bag between his teeth and a surprised look at Dean half naked and falling over. 

“Dean?” The pastry bag falls to the carpet and bounces. 

He straightens and his pants fall down around his ankles. “Sorry, I uh, had to take a piss.”

“And you needed to put on your pants for that?” Cas puts down their coffee cups and picks up the pastry bag. “Maybe by the time I’m out of the shower, you won’t be acting so weird?” He holds up the bag. “This is for you… it’s a dagel? A donut bagel hybrid, the barista said. Blueberry.” 

Dean’s favorite. And Cas is letting him slide on the pants thing. 

“Thanks, babe, I’ll order us some breakfast too.” 

Cas is already distracted and kicking his shoes off before the bathroom door shuts behind him. Dean orders breakfast and goes over his speech in his head about making this work and trying again. He even has some ideas to throw out there. 

Room service arrives just as Cas is getting out of the bathroom and Dean’s back to pacing because it feels like Cas is hiding out, and Dean doesn’t like it. Maybe it’s his own anxieties, they make him project and overreact and yeah, come to think of it, maybe he could use another session with Dr. Harvell too. 

Cas finishes plating their breakfast while Dean tips the bellhop, but he's relieved when Cas settles on the bed and puts both plates down. 

Before he can reach for his plate, Cas is pulling Dean to him for a kiss. “I'm sorry I didn't wake you, and if I startled you,” he murmurs against Dean's lips. “I had a lot of pent up energy.”

“Coulda helped you with that,” Dean mutters back, tipping their lips together. If Cas is down for curbing this conversation to have a lot of really awesome sex instead, Dean's in. 

Literally, if Cas wants. 

Always the more mature one between them, Cas just smiles and pulls away to grab his plate and eat. Dean follows, he guesses. 

They eat in silence, Cas even leaving off the TV, and Dean goes over his ideas again. He considered a Harry Potter marathon but isn't sure if this also meant, hey, come see my house or, let me in your private family space and thinking about it got too complicated so he scratched it. 

Other ideas included a kinda suspect looking County fair in between their houses or a baseball game until Dean found the _coolest_ looking Renaissance Fair in Kansas City. 

It was awesome and has stuff for all of them to do.

The only thing is, it would mean Cas hauling the kids a lot further and probably an overnight. Dean guesses they're talking about the house thing one way or another, if he wants to push the Ren Fair idea. He just thinks they'd _all_ like it, considering the things they can do there together as a group and maybe even be able to separate and let the kids explore for a few hours too. 

The more he thinks about it, the more Dean wants to tell Cas. Cas beats him to the punch.

“I know you told me to stop apologizing but I feel like I have to,” Cas starts and Dean's already shaking his head. Cas thinks their bad date is his fault because bowling was his idea. 

“Not how it works, buddy, come on,” Dean chides him. They've had this conversation. “We're a team, we _both_ decided. If I thought it was gonna go like that _at all_ , I'd have taken us back to the drawing board.” He takes a big bite of toast, fluffy yellow scrambled eggs piled on top, ignoring the bit that falls off. “That was a fluke man,” he says around his food.

Cas scowls at him and Dean swallows sheepishly. Cas hates it when people talk with food in their mouths. Jack does it enough for Cas to complain about it. Dean does too. 

“Sorry babe,” he wipes his mouth with his napkin and points at Cas. “Point is, we’re not givin’ up.” 

Cas sighs and pushes his plate away. “Dean, you know I regret saying that.” He looks down and twists the white hotel sheets between his fingers. “This week has been awful and I know you’ve been worried. I have too—I just—” 

Dean waits patiently while Cas finds his words. The phone gives them the luxury of saying whatever they want without being seen, and Dean’s found it an awesome way to open up to Cas when he needs to. Face to face is fuckin’ _hard._

So Dean waits. He reaches for Cas, untangles his fingers from the sheets and puts them in the empty spaces between his own. It’s where Cas’ hands belong, holding his while he waits. 

Cas’ shoulders soften against the muted morning light coming in from the partially open curtains. Dean’s breath catches in his throat just looking at him and Cas’ warm hands tangled with his own make Dean feel alive. 

“It’s just been the three of us for a very long time,” he says carefully. Dean holds his hands tighter and Cas squeezes back. “There’s never been anyone in our lives like you, Dean, and Emma. I’ve never—Anytime I met someone new, I’d end things the moment I knew I didn’t want them to meet my kids. And when we reunited,” he smiles, but it falls away. “I was terrified of that happening with you and it never did and I was getting used to that idea when you asked.”

Something twists and tightens in Dean’s throat. Cas won’t look at him and that’s worse, actually. Dean tilts his head down to catch Cas’ eye. “Hey, it’s okay, I didn’t ask lightly, believe me, I get it.” 

Cas looks at him. “How did you know?”

“Just knew I loved you.” Dean shrugs. “Knew I loved them. It felt right, Cas, you’ve always just felt right and it was the next step.” 

Cas is looking at Dean like he’s the most adorable cat gif he’s ever seen. Big blue eyes sparkling, he leans in and Dean does too without thinking, the kiss they fall into familiar and comforting and what they both need. Dean lets Cas’ hands go so he can cup his face while they kiss, so he can stroke the hairs that curl behind Cas’ ears and feel his jaw working in his palms. 

Strong hands roam across his chest, Cas’ long fingers stroking Dean’s skin, skimming over his nipples with an occasional lingering touch. One hand slips under Dean’s arm and curls around his ribs possessively. Eventually they’re just brushing their mouths together for the comfort of each other and Cas is the first to pull away. 

“Once you believe in something, you’re all in, Dean. It’s something I admire greatly about you.” He puts a hand over Dean’s still pressed to his cheek. “Kelly was much the same and I appreciated her for it as well, maybe because I myself always feel in doubt.” 

His eyes turn fond, like they usually do when he mentions the kid’s mom. Kelly was Cas’ best friend in college. Well, best friends with benefits at first, which is how Claire came about. They decided together to have Jack but by then they weren’t sleeping together and hadn’t been for years, instead using artificial insemination to conceive him. 

They were a happy family for three years, Cas and Kelly’s unusual arrangement giving their kids parents who loved and _liked_ each other very much. The drunk driver that ended all of it was fully convicted and Cas spent the next few years holding it together with two toddlers and every plan they ever made together thrown on its head. 

Cas told Dean all about her during their first weekend together. He always tells Dean that he would have liked Kelly, would have found her challenging and interesting and undoubtedly frustrating. Cas really loved her so Dean knows he would have too. 

“She would have wanted us to try again.” 

Cas’ gaze is clear and steady when Dean looks at him. 

“Emma does too.” 

His eyes soften around the corners, because Dean mentioned his daughter and it makes his heart beat hard in his chest. He goes on. “She said the five of us could have “Happy Ever After” together.” Dean raises his eyebrows and gives Cas a small smile. 

The smile that Cas’ face melts into is just about one of the sweetest Dean’s ever seen. 

“I love that. I love you both, so much Dean,” Cas says as he leans in to share his sweetness. 

Dean will always take all of him that Cas is willing to give. “I love you. And I love us, _all_ of us.” He kisses him again, and again, as many times as he can to keep that smile on Cas’ face. “You and us, darlin’,” he whispers, confesses, his heart open for Cas. “Long as you’ll have me.” 

Cas kisses him between words of reassurance, that he’ll want Dean always, that that’s a feeling he’s lived with forever, saying things Dean’s only ever thought, out loud. 

The way they make it a point to consume each other, to meet over and over regardless of distance, of time, of goddamn infinite space changes Dean, it changes the way the breath goes in and out of him. Cas makes Dean feel like he’s worthy of being loved by a man like him. 

When they go back to talking, Cas ends up loving the idea of the Renaissance Fair. The kids do too and Dean and Cas both spend the weeks leading up making costumes. The chainmail Dean finds for himself is fucking badass—Cas is gonna love it—and his leather wrist straps are awesome. He looks awesome in the whole get up. 

Donna helps Emma sew a dress from a pattern they found online, the long gown with a bodice made of ribbons, a matching set weaved in her hair by her aunt the morning of. She has a cool leather hip bag and brown boots that finish her outfit and together, they look fucking _cool._ Donna takes a shit load of pictures and makes Dean swear up and down he’ll take just as many of Cas and his kids when they’re all together. 

They meet at the hotel Cas and the kids are staying at, both of them deciding this was the easiest thing for now, considering the long day they were about to have. He’s rummaging around in the Impala’s trunk, making sure he has everyone’s makeshift weapons for the day. Dean got put in charge of them; foam swords for him and Cas, a dagger for Emma, a kickass bow and arrow for Claire and a magical staff, as requested by Jack. 

Loud teenage squeals break the silence and get Dean out of the trunk and he turns to see Emma and Claire hugging and laughing through their reunion. It’s amazing, Dean had no idea they’d gotten so close. Jack’s wearing a sweet smile and he looks great in his wizard cloak and long robes in deep maroon and yellow. He’s wearing a pointy hat and he high fives Dean when he reaches the car. 

“Hey buddy, I’m diggin’ those robes.” Dean hands over the wooden staff. “How’s it look?”

“Oh _wow_ , thanks Dean, this is really neat.” Jack turns it over in his hands, examining the wood and soft finish Dean sanded it to, flipping it over and over to find what feels comfortable in his hands. It makes Dean happy to see he looks pleased with the result. 

He looks past Jack to see Cas approaching, a wide smile on his face and hot _damn_ , Cas looks _incredible._ He’s dressed like a scoundrel, a pirate, and Dean’s ready to be _plundered_. 

Cas is tight all over, a leather vest showing off his hips, the ruffled white shirt he’s wearing under it cut into some kind of _sinful_ vee with his strong chest peeking out, so Dean can’t be blamed for the way his mouth goes dry. He’s wearing his own cloak, black and sweeping the ground around his black boots that go up to his knees and just what in the hell is Dean supposed to do with all that?

Cas’ eyes darken as he takes in Dean’s outfit too and maybe they should have done this over Facetime instead of in front of their kids because they kind of… forget and it’s the loud protests from them that serve as a reminder. He doesn’t let Dean pull away, instead just lifting the edge of his cloak up to cover them so he can kiss Dean some more around both their laughter. 

“You’re asking for trouble in that getup, Cas” he murmurs, kissing him quick one more time before they pull away from each other, much to the relief of their kids. 

Cas promises to bring it to their next meetup and that’s when Dean knows for sure it’s gonna be a good day. It’s the Harvest Huzzah weekend so everything is fall themed and first, they enjoy ale tasting while the kids compete in the Root Beer Chug. Jack takes second, much to all their pride and enjoyment. 

It’s not awesome when he throws up on the stupid giant swing ride so Dean takes him to get cleaned up and rest while Cas takes the girls to see the marketplace and when they all come back to sit and watch the Grand March Parade together, they’re all wearing flower crowns; purple for Emma to match her dress, blue for Cas that brings out his eyes, and one made of wild thorns and ivy for Claire. It compliments the costume she made, a huntress with dark leather pants and a linen wrap, her hair long and styled in flowing waves. The bow and arrow Dean made is strapped to her back and she looks fierce, as fierce as she can with the big grin she’s had all day. 

Claire and Emma have been attached at the hip and Dean’s loving it, Cas too if the way he keeps catching Dean’s eye is any indication. Cas also looks very pleased that Dean and Jack seem to have bonded over a shared love of mechanics, Jack going into depth about his robot (which won first place, btw). Together, they’ve been coming up with _other_ possible chores that could be done by a robot and before the day’s done, Jack’s asking Cas when they can visit Dean’s house so he can see Dean’s workshop. 

They brought flower crowns for Dean and Jack too. Jack sets his watch to alert him every hour so he can switch between his crown and his hat and when he’s not wearing it, Dean’s wearing two. His has little yellow and white flowers throughout and ribbons to match his tunic. Jack’s is made of white and dark red flowers with golden ribbons and Dean makes sure to take many pictures of them all for Donna, as requested. 

They stay until closing, when dusk has settled and the heat of the day is gone, replaced by a cool breeze. Claire and Emma are huddling under Cas’ cloak, giggling together over something on Claire’s phone as they walk to the car. Jack is quietly listening to an audio course he found and downloaded before they left about Medieval times, already talking about a report he could do for his history class. 

Dean and Cas follow behind their kids, hands intertwined and opposite arms ladened with bags and pouches and whatever else stuff their kids conned them into buying throughout the day. Dean has a very large stuffed iguana tucked by its tail under his belt and it smacks his hip as they walk. His feet are tired, his shoulders and back are sore but it’s one of the best days Dean can remember having had—ever. 

He squeezes Cas’ hand in the low light of their well spent day and he glances at him. The exhaustion of the day is all over Cas’ face but he looks radiant with the sun setting behind him and Dean stops them, cutting off the curious noise Cas makes with a kiss, a hand going to his hip. He squeezes. 

“Good day, sweetheart?” 

“The best day, Dean.” 

“What did I tell ya, Cas?” Dean tips their lips together one more time in the twilight. “You and us.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Babe? Can you come out here? I can’t find the extra plates!” 

Dean smiles and grabs a dish towel to dry his hands before he heads towards the open door to the garage. He leans in the doorway to watch Cas standing inside, hands on his hips as he glances around the room, his eyes narrowed. “I could have sworn we brought them in but I can’t find them anywhere.” 

Still _so_ cute. 

“You forgot you put them in the Impala’s backseat and not the trunk.” Cas tossed them back there instead of the trunk so they could get to kissing faster inside the car before they left the store parking lot earlier.

Cas snaps his fingers and turns to open Baby’s door. “You’re a genius.” 

“Your memory just sucks.” Dean replies with a grin before he turns back into the kitchen. He’s preparing meat for tomorrow’s Fourth of July BBQ. A bunch of family is coming over first thing so their night is being spent prepping as much as they can.

Cas comes in, hands full of bags and dumps his wares on the kitchen table with a sigh. “Anything else to do when you’re done with the burgers?” He begins to unload them, bags of tomatoes and avocados going into the crisper. Cas leaves the door open to the fridge when he goes back to the table. 

Dean wraps up the hamburger meat before he puts it inside the fridge, closing the door with his hip. He holds his hands up and wiggles his fingers. “All done, just need to wash these.” He bounces one eyebrow. “Wanna make out again when I’m finished?”

Cas doesn’t have time to answer before three pairs of feet come pounding down the back staircase. 

Claire, followed right behind by Emma, both of them beaming, and Jack right on their heels with a big grin on his face enter the room with about as much grace as a herd of elephants. The girls breeze past their dads like they aren’t even there to attack the fridge and pantry while they giggle and talk about who knows what and ignore all the men in the room. 

Jack on the other hand has to stop himself from sliding into the counter, his enthusiasm to get into the room making him unsteady on the slippery floor. He straightens and stares at them expectantly. “Dad, Dean, I’ve finished unpacking like you asked. May I start organizing the workshop now?” 

Emma and Claire, arms laden with snacks and drinks, finally decide to acknowledge the other occupants in the kitchen. Claire speaks for them both. “Yeah, we’re done with our rooms too, we’re gonna go up to the den and watch a movie.” 

“Cas, do you think you can make us some of your guacamole?” Emma’s face is hopeful. 

Dean exchanges a look with Cas. His face is all soft around the edges and Cas is already turning towards the refrigerator to pull out what he needs, promising to bring them a big bowl once he’s done. 

The girls squeal—an unnatural sound Dean doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to—and make for the stairs. Jack lifts his eyebrows and smiles at Dean. 

“You want some help, bud?” Dean was going to do the dishes after he made out with Cas but that can wait. 

Jack surprises him by shaking his head. “That’s okay, we’ve already discussed our plan and reviewed all my questions.” They did do that. A few times. “If I have any more, we can go over them at breakfast.” 

God, Dean loves this kid. He nods. “Sounds like a plan, Stan.” 

Jack furrows his brow and tilts his head in confusion which is a very _Cas_ thing to do. “It’s… Jack,” he says, careful, like maybe Dean forgot? 

Dean huffs out a laugh. “I know, okay, just remember you don’t have to finish tonight. Try to get to bed before midnight.” 

Jack nods and checks his watch. “That should be plenty of time. Goodnight, then.” 

He goes out through the garage, the door closing softly behind him.

The kitchen is silent again and the room reverberates with the energy of the teenagers that passed through like a tornado. Cas is smiling down at his avocados and he tilts his head to peek at Dean, who goes to him immediately, a matching smile stuck on his face that he hasn’t been able to shake for a while. 

Five months, matter of fact. Five months since their _awesome_ day at the Ren Fair (kicked that first date’s fuckin’ _ass_ ) and five months since, riding the high of that day, they decided together to go all in. They’d each sat down with their kids and in Dean’s case, Donna too, and talked about moving forward, about more time together as a family and ultimately, about relocation. 

Cas asked for at least five months, at Claire’s request, so she could graduate with all her friends. Dean and Emma sat proudly in the stands to watch her graduate with honors, Dean clutching Cas’ hand the whole time, until it was Claire’s turn to walk across the stage and then the four of them made more noise than anyone else the whole day. 

They presented her with her graduation present—a souped up (by Dean himself), cherry red, 1961 Volkswagen Bug—at her party after and she’d hugged Dean so hard after hugging Cas that he’s pretty sure she cracked a rib. She spent the rest of the party giving her friends rides around Cas’ neighborhood but only after taking Jack and Emma for a spin first. 

Claire chose KU’s journalism program and together, Dean and Cas decided that Cas would relocate back to Lawrence. Jack had a vote too and after visiting Dean’s workshop like he’d been promised, he was eager to move. 

Dean’s house, while the perfect size for him and Emma, just wouldn’t fit a family of five, even with Claire in the dorms most of the time. Luckily they had time and with it, they found the perfect, six bedroom farmhouse. It was an awesome find, built in the fifties but completely renovated by the last owner, a fellow architect Cas knew from school, as it turned out. All the kids could have their own rooms with enough left over for an office and a guest room. There was a big wrap-around porch and an enormous double garage, big enough to park their cars on one side and use the other as a workshop for Dean and to set up a workbench for Jack and his robots and other random projects. 

They all agree that the coolest part of the whole house is the den. It’s the second story of the garage and when they bought the house, it was empty. Now, it’s a badass family space; one half a homemade theater complete with giant projection screen and two rows of recliner chairs, one row slightly elevated over the other for maximum viewing enjoyment.

The other side of the room has a pool table (a housewarming gift from Cas’ brothers and sisters) and a huge sofa so they can sit and read, or fold laundry, or any of the other hundred things Dean imagines them doing together as a family. 

They got their keys and officially “moved in” two weeks ago. Tonight was the deadline they’d given the kids to get their shit unpacked because tomorrow, their new house was going to host its first of what Dean hopes is many future family parties. Dean’s proud of their brood for finishing without either of them needing to give any of the kids a push.

And now he’s got Cas to kiss in their kitchen whenever he wants. Like right now, now that they’re alone again.

“How’d we get such cool kids, Cas?” Dean murmurs into the soft spot behind Cas’ ear, arms going around his waist. 

Cas tilts his head to the side, pretending to think and Dean takes the opportunity to press his lips to Cas’ soft throat. It makes Cas smile that soft tilt of a smile that Dean loves to bring out. 

“Cool dads,” he replies and Dean groans, pressing his forehead to Cas’ shoulder. 

He bangs it there softly a few times. “You’re not cool, Cas, you know that, come on—oof—” The air goes out of Dean when Cas bumps him away with his perky ass and continues to slice the tomato he’s cutting. Dean smacks that cute butt in retaliation giving his wrist a playful shake. 

“Okay, okay,” Dean huffs out a laugh and pushes himself back against Cas anyway, kissing the back of his neck. “You are so cool, honey, with those cute sweaters I love so much. You gonna wear one for me tomorrow?”

“It’s July, Dean.” Cas chops up some cilantro, his hands moving quick and fast and Dean watches them, his chin hooked over Cas’ shoulder. 

“Is that a no?” 

“Would you just shut up and kiss me?” 

“Mmm, give me a scoop of that guac first.” Cas makes the best fucking guacamole Dean’s ever had and he hopes Cas made enough for them to eat too. Preferably naked in bed later. 

“Is tonight going to be your first night on the couch?” Cas is pouting and not giving in.

Dean throws his head back and laughs, letting him go with a squeeze for that one and Cas makes a noise of protest but it’s half hearted. Dean opens them a few beers and puts one down in front of Cas, getting excited when he sees Cas scooping some guacamole into a small bowl, away from the bigger one for the girls. Cas grabs his hand before Dean can take it back and he presses a kiss to the inside of his wrist and Dean cups his cheek to turn him, Cas’ whole body following. 

“I’m gonna take this upstairs. Don’t eat all the dip before I can get some.” Cas’ blue eyes dance with mischief. “Go to our room and be naked by the time I get there.” 

“Hell yeah.” Dean tries to steal a kiss but Cas is already leaving him hanging and heading up the stairs. He busts his ass to get all the dishes in the dishwasher and sticks his head in the garage to check on Jack. 

“Doing okay, bud?” Jack’s back is to him and he’s busy checking the papers he has spread out on the workbench while he hangs tools on the board Dean hung up for him. Dean waits for an answer but doesn’t get one and he has to take a few steps inside to notice Jack has his headphones in, probably listening to the newest Stephen King book. He likes those freaky horror stories, reminds Dean of Sam’s weirdo serial killer thing. 

Dean checks his watch and it’s only ten, so he decides not to bother Jack and break him out of his groove. The kid thrives on his routines and organization, which is why Dean knew this project would be perfect for him. He goes back to the kitchen to scoop out some of their guacamole onto a plate with some chips, leaving it with a glass of seltzer for Jack, just inside the door to the garage. 

Cas still isn’t back so Dean does a quick wipe down of the counters and leaves the light on over the stove before shutting off the rest and making sure the doors are locked tight. The hardwood is cool under his bare feet and the night is quiet, crickets singing outside and the old house settling around them. 

Their bedroom is on the first floor, the kids and extra rooms making up the second. There’s a pair of French doors leading out to their backyard and next to them, a stone fireplace. Their bedside lamps are both on and their giant bed is already turned down and waiting for them. 

He loves this room. It has a kick-ass view of their yard that backs up to Clinton State Park. The windows face west and every evening, their room floods with the warmth of the setting sun, all golden pink rays and dusky light. Every time Dean sees Cas in it, it takes his breath away.

Dark now beyond the windows, Dean leaves the tray he loaded with their snack on his bedside table before he quickly pulls down his shorts and yanks his shirt over his head. He steps and kicks his foot, flipping the shorts into the air so he can catch them and toss both into the hamper before he goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

Examining himself in the mirror, he kicks himself for skipping the gym so many days in a row. With the move and everything, he hasn’t had the chance. Cas just runs whenever he wants and always bugs Dean to join him but he hates cardio so the gym it is. He’s been eyeing a corner of the garage to use as a home gym figuring he can get a weight set in there, easy. 

He lifts his chin and tilts his head back and forth, hoping that’s not an _extra_ chin wanting to join the party. His chest looks okay and he flexes his pecs a little until he notices those few extra pounds he can’t seem to shake. They like to hang out right around his middle and his stomach but they’ve kinda been eating a lot of junk this week, so it’s fine. After tomorrow, he’s back to the gym. 

At least his dick looks big in these briefs Cas bought for him. 

“As much as I love your ass in those, I thought I asked you to be naked.” 

Dean looks up and meets Cas’ eyes in the mirror. He’s leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest wearing only his boxers and he’s staring Dean up and down, slow, and by the heat in his dark blue eyes, he likes what he sees. Dean’s blush rises, inching up into his cheeks the longer Cas stares. 

With an appreciative hum, Cas steps into the bathroom, coming up behind Dean in the mirror. His large hands slide around Dean’s hips, his fingers pressing against Dean’s skin. “All of us being together is nice but I think this is my favorite part of living together.” 

“Our awesome bathroom?” 

Cas pulls him tighter, a hard line pressing against his body and more specifically, against his ass. “You and your gorgeous, half naked body within reach whenever I want it.” 

Dean burns hot in Cas’ arms and he swallows thickly. “I don’t think the kids would like it if I made a wardrobe change,” he jokes, wanting the attention off of him. Cas always tells Dean how much he loves his body and the constant reminders have begun to slowly reverse the way he thinks about himself. Some days are better than others but Cas made him throw away his scale months ago and honestly, Dean forgets to miss it. 

Cas’ kisses to the back of his neck stop and Dean back peddles. “I’m kidding, kidding. I know I’m hot.” 

Big, warm hands slip down, one to cup him from the outside and the other to slip inside his underwear, Cas’ long clever fingers wrapping around Dean and fitting right where he likes, with his grip tight, the knuckle of his finger nudging and rubbing the underside of Dean’s cockhead. God, the way Cas knows Dean’s body by heart, knows how he likes to be touched, knows how to make Dean scream or whimper—sometimes a lot of both in the same night. 

A slick smile melts against his neck when Dean groans. “You really are beautiful, Dean.” Cas’ deep, rumble wreaks havoc on Dean’s libido. Slow, careful hands pull Dean free from his briefs and push his underwear down under his balls. “Look.” 

Dean raises his eyes to Cas’ in the mirror. Both of them have wide, dark eyes, pupils dilated. Cas’ hair is mussed, sticking up in peaks like it always is, the locks wild around his head. He’s ethereal, the _want_ unbridled in his stare. Cas stares at Dean’s mouth in the mirror and _seeing_ him do it compared to watching Cas’ eyes flick down makes Dean’s stomach flip and his dick harder. 

He swallows noisily as he tries to do what he’s told and just _look_. 

Dean starts with his shoulders; broad, strong from years of wrenching parts from rusty engine blocks and lifting heavy shit (which is probably why his fucking back hurts all the time). They’re ruddy, thanks to the last two days spent in a tank top under the July sun, mowing and weeding and building patio furniture for the party. He’s _covered_ in freckles, just fucking drenched in them and Dean kinda gets why Cas is so into them. They're… delicate. His freckles give him a softness that he doesn't understand, but the thought falls away and his breath quickens when Cas catches Dean admiring himself. 

"Do you like what you see, my love?" 

"Yeah." Dean's own breathlessness surprises him. 

"Keep going, then." Cas is breathless too.

Dean tries not to think about that as his eyes dip into the hollow of his throat and down his strong chest, his gaze lingering on his pink nipples, hard, and pebbled. The sound that leaves him when Cas brushes a few fingers over them is desperate and strangled and it makes Cas lick his lips. 

Now Dean's watching Cas' hand slowly slide down his body, pressing again at the softness of his belly. Sure fingers slip into the vee of Dean's hips and there's that sound again and then Cas' mouth is on Dean's neck, but his eyes are still with Dean's in the mirror. Green follows blue to watch Cas slip searching fingers into the thatch of hair around his cock, and fuck, it's like watching his favorite porn because it's Cas' gorgeous hand that wraps around him to stroke his shaft and make him moan. 

Cas shifts on his feet and it makes the hard on pressing against Dean's ass shift too and he can't help but push back against it which stills Cas' hand. 

"Be patient, we'll get there." Cas' words burn into the curve of Dean's neck. "All you need to do is keep watching."

Oh, Dean's happy to, and he nods. He watches Cas turn them to face each other, watches Cas run possessive hands over his shoulders and down his chest. Dean watches Cas’ underwear pool around his ankles and he watches as Cas sinks to his knees, his strong naked legs flexing—heat flares in him thinking of Cas stripping down in his eagerness to get to him. 

Thighs Dean loves to be held by now support Cas' weight with ease as he settles on the floor, the bottoms of his feet showing behind him. The way he stares at Dean in the mirror, the _hunger_ in his eyes, the way he licks his plump lips—Cas should be illegal in at least thirty-eight states. 

"Dean. You’re not supposed to be looking at me." 

He meets Cas' eyes, seeing the seriousness there, and he ducks his head. Dean thinks about the slash of red on each of Cas' cheeks from the heat of them, he thinks he did that, to Cas, maybe with the body in front of him in the mirror. Maybe with the heart inside of his chest. It feels greedy to hope for both but Cas _makes_ him want to be greedy. 

“Look at us.” 

Dean’s heart stops and his eyes go back to their reflection. 

Cas opens his mouth and guides Dean inside it. 

The heat of him is atomic when he sucks Dean down, humming his approval when it makes Dean cry out. Pulling off Dean’s dick with a wet pop, Cas’ clever hand is already working his spit down to slick up Dean’s shaft. 

Dean watches him suck some of the spit away, only to slowly drip it onto the tip of his swollen cock. It makes it shiny, wet, and Cas runs his stupidly long tongue up and down Dean's length until he's dripping. Dean watches, he can't look away and why the fuck would he want to, anyway? 

They look so goddamn good. 

Cas jacks him, pressing the tip of Dean’s cock to his lips. “You taste as good as you look,” he says, dipping his tongue into the slit and moaning filthily. Christ, Dean’s gonna lose his shit if Cas does that again and he doesn’t think he can hear things like that and survive this. Cas already looks like a fucking porn star on his knees and when he swallows Dean down again, Dean moans low and tilts his hips up to push his cock deeper into Cas’ mouth. Cas grips him and pulls off with a gasp, panting hard against Dean’s shaft, his cheeks flushed, his eyes shut. 

“Do that again,” he says roughly. “Do what makes you feel good.”

Fuck. “Cas—I—” 

“Dean.” Cas breaks their game to lean back and catch Dean’s eyes, no glass between them. “I want you to.” His eyes go back to the mirror and Dean’s slam shut. 

Cas grabs Dean’s hand and puts it in on the side of his head and Dean buries his fingers in Cas’ thick locks. Muffling his own groan, Cas’ lips wrap around Dean’s cock again, sliding down and up and back down again, each time a little deeper, until his nose is buried in Dean’s pubic hair and pressing against his pelvis, Dean’s hand fisted in his thick locks. He keeps him there and he stares at them, until Cas pushes back against him and Dean lets him go, lets him slide off with a dirty slurp, Cas’ spit and Dean’s pre-come dripping down his chin. 

He doesn’t take nearly enough time to catch his breath before his mouth is stuffed full of Dean’s cock again and Dean lets his hand slip down to cup Cas’ cheek, the other coming up to join, and Dean watches himself hold Cas’ face steady while he carefully rocks his hips, his wet cock sliding in and out from between those pink, wrecked lips. 

Cas is watching Dean in the mirror when Dean starts to fuck his face. 

Every thrust punches a sweet noise from Cas’ throat, and it gets sweeter, and higher the faster Dean moves and Dean feels drunk, like he’s falling, like Cas’ mouth is the only salvation he’ll ever need and he stares at them, watches them, lets his eyes drift to take in all of them.

One of Cas’ hands is clenching at Dean’s hip but the other is between his legs and tugging at his cock with fast jerks of his wrist. 

The fire Dean’s been suppressing erupts at the sight of Cas pleasuring himself because he’s sucking on Dean’s cock and when Dean comes, Cas just swallows him, doesn’t pull off until _Dean_ pulls back and still he tightens the seal of his mouth as Dean pulls out, just so he can get every last drop of them mixed together. 

Dean can only watch when Cas leans back on his haunches, his cock tight in his fist as he comes all over his hand, thick spurts of it covering his knuckles, his swollen mouth hanging open, head back, eyes shut. Completely ruined. 

All because of Dean. 

Sinking to his knees, Dean pulls Cas to him by his neck, thumbing away the sheen of spit and come that covers his chin. Cas makes a soft noise and opens his eyes, and it's his turn to watch Dean suck his thumb into his mouth to clean it. 

Dean’s being kissed before he realizes Cas’ chest is pressed to his, Cas’ arms coming around Dean and holding him close. They only stay like that until things get sticky and then clean up is quick; hands washed, bodies wiped down, teeth brushed. 

Cas unlocks their bedroom door, crossing the room to pull on clean, white boxers before he climbs into bed beside Dean, who got into the chips and guacamole the minute he got into bed. Their beer bottles are beaded with condensation that Cas swipes away, one after the other before passing one to Dean. 

They snack and talk about the next day’s plan, Sam and his family due to arrive in the morning. They flew in that afternoon and spent the evening getting settled at their hotel with Mary, a now a very mischievous three-year-old and baby Maura, seven months old tomorrow. Dean’s really excited to see them all and he’s planning to get up early and cook up a huge breakfast for everyone. 

Donna and Jody plan to arrive around one, Alex around four with a few of her friends from school. Cas’ family couldn’t make it so they’re planning a big Thanksgiving to host them all. 

Around eleven thirty, they hear Jack going up the backstairs. A half hour later, two sets of footsteps come down and back up after a few minutes and they give them time to settle before Dean slips out to make last rounds, taking their empty dishes with them. 

The house is quiet, the floors cold and Dean walks through it, loving the lingering smell of fresh paint and the way the house breathes around him, already adapting to their energy. It’s going to keep them safe for a long time, this house, and Dean plans to show it as much love as he can. They’re going to make it into a home together, after all. 

Loading up the rest of the dishes in the dishwasher, including the ones abandoned in the sink by his kids, Dean pushes the shiny start button and hums the little digital tune it sings when the cycle starts. He touches all the locks and checks the alarm before taking the stairs two at a time, light on his feet until he hits carpet and only then does he walk normally, stopping in front of Jack’s door, the first one in the hall. He tightens the sash on his robe as he listens, not hearing anything for a good minute before he moves on to Claire’s room. Music is playing softly behind the door, but that’s all. 

He reaches Emma’s door and there’s movement behind it and Dean has one hand on the doorknob when the light comes on and spills out from under the door. 

Dean’s frozen when Emma opens her door a crack, her eyes widening when she sees her dad standing there. 

“Daddy!” she exclaims with a whisper. “Is something wrong?” She opens her door wider, the warm, yellow light spreading into the hallway. “Are you okay?” 

Dean flashes her a smile and steps in her room when she gestures at him. Emma closes the door behind him as he comes to stand beside her bed. Dean loves this room. He gave Emma full reign over the design, got her all new furniture, a new desk, and even some new monitors for her computer. She decorated in shades of mauve and gold with hints of lilac and white fairy lights adorn the back of the desk and the head of the bed. Everything is neat and in its place now that she’s done unpacking and Dean can tell she was about to start reading in bed, the fifth Harry Potter book open and face down in her blankets. 

She wraps her thin arms around him in a tight hug, her blonde hair tickling his chin when he hugs her back. “What’s wrong, daddy?” Her voice is a careful whisper. 

“Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart, just the opposite.” 

“Good.” Emma’s smile lifts her cheeks against his chest and his heart feels full. She sighs in his arms before stepping out of his embrace, still smiling as she climbs into bed. Dean sits down on the edge and smooths his hands over her favorite blanket, light blue with big peacock feathers on it. Dean wrapped her in it when she was just a baby; the soft blanket the first baby thing he bought as a single dad and it’s been on every one of Emma’s beds since he brought it home. 

“I know there’s been a lot of change, fast, are _you_ okay?” It’s Dean’s biggest fear, that Emma’s unhappy with their new situation, now that it isn’t just the two of them. She’s been amazing during the entire process, helping them pick the house (all the kids had a say) and she seems to enjoy her new room and their new family space. He hopes she’d tell him if she didn’t have everything she needs. 

“I’m so happy, Daddy,” she confesses, her eyes wide and sparkling. A weight lifts from his chest. She grabs his hand. “I love it here. Is it weird if I want to call Claire my sister? It feels like I have a brother and sister, dad, it’s so cool.” 

She barely pauses to take a breath, telling him how much her and Claire have been doing together, how they have plans to hang out a lot when school starts and Claire’s living in the dorm, how Jack’s gonna make her a robot that will clean her makeup brushes. 

Dean can’t remember ever feeling this happy. 

He listens for a little longer before she lets out a huge yawn. Dean takes the forgotten book and marks the page, putting it on her bedside table as she slides down into the blankets with a sheepish grin. Dean loves her so much. 

Once she’s settled, he smooths her hair down and leans in to kiss her forehead. “I’m so happy you’re happy, baby girl.” 

Emma’s eyes soften. “We’re getting it, dad,” she says around a yawn. 

Dean furrows his brow. “Getting what Em?” 

“Our happy ending.” Another sweet yawn before Emma’s turning away from him and snuggling down into her blankets, missing the tear that slips down Dean’s cheek, his heart full. He doesn’t bother to wipe it away when he tucks her blanket around her and kisses her temple, flipping her bedside lamp off and plunging the room in darkness. 

Cas is waiting outside Emma’s door and Dean isn’t surprised at all to see him there and he’s thankful Cas came looking for him when he melts into Cas’ open arms. 

“You raised a wonderful young woman, Dean, you should be very proud.” 

Cas’ words make it hard to breathe, the knot that’s been pressing against his throat really trying to make a break for it. Pressing his face into Cas’ neck helps push it back down, helps him get it together enough to find his voice again, Cas just stroking his hair while he waits. 

"Take me to bed, honey,” he sighs. Dean lets Cas lead him back to their bed, smothered in blankets and pillows, their own nest, their escape, their sanctuary after any and every kind of day they'll have together. Every night Dean's spent in it with Cas have been the most restful nights of sleep Dean's ever had in his forty-four years on this planet. 

He lets Cas arrange them, huffing a laugh when Cas’ fingers tickle his sides and dip into his soft curves. Dean loves him. He loves the way Cas makes sure he’s holding one of Dean’s hands as they lay face to face, the other draped over Dean’s hip and stroking his skin. He loves the way it makes his blood race up and down his back in the most pleasing way, just because Cas is touching him. Every night, Cas pulls one of Dean’s legs between his own, or he wedges his knee between Dean’s thighs, like he needs to be tangled with Dean always, no matter what. 

Soft kisses land across his cheeks and down his chin and Dean’s so happy, so content, a feeling only heightened by what Cas says next.

“You and Emma are our happy ending too, Dean. You two were what was missing.” Cas wipes at the second of Dean’s tears. “And I never want to lose this, Dean, I want this life with you, forever.” 

Dean couldn’t live a minute without Cas in his life, not now, not ever again. 

“Dean,” Cas whispers. “I want to marry you.” 

It’s like everything stops and all there is is him, and Cas, and all that matters is the way they breathe in and out together, their hearts falling in sync, not for the first and certainly, never for the last time. They’re bound together, Dean’s realizing and Cas and their kids and this life are everything Dean will ever want and need. 

“Yes,” he blurts out, startling himself. “I mean, if you’re asking.” Dean sucks in a shaky breath. “I’m saying yes.” 

Cas’ eyes flair and he gives Dean a wide, beautiful, gummy smile infused with actual rays of golden light, Dean’s sure of it. 

To him, Cas is the sun. 

“I have a ring,” Cas confesses around sweet slips of laughter. “It’s in my sock drawer.” Before Dean can stop him, he’s rolling out of bed and crossing the room, shooting Dean a grin over his shoulder before he pulls his top drawer open to take out a black ring box. 

Dean’s sitting up, sheets pooled around his waist, and heart pounding in his chest when Cas comes back to him. On his knees next to Dean, he opens the box, the lid creaking as it opens to reveal a badass black metal ring that looks twisted, one row of colored and white diamonds weaved with a line of blue-ish green stone. 

Cas takes it out and brings it closer between them, pointing at the sparkling diamonds. “See these three colored stones? Each is one of the kid’s birthstones.” 

Dean sucks in a breath. 

“Green emerald for May.” Jack’s birthday. “Purple amethyst for February.” Emma’s birthday. “And a red ruby for July.” Claire’s birthday is in twenty days. “Do you like it?” 

“I love it,” Dean breathes out. “This is incredible, _you’re_ incredible Cas.” Another tear slips free when Cas slides the ring on Dean’s left hand. It’s a perfect fit, cool against his skin where it settles, like it was molded for Dean’s finger only. He’ll wear it with nothing but pride and love for the man who’s thoughtfulness and passion for his family makes Dean fall in love with him every day. “I love you, so much.” 

“I love us,” Cas replies, his lips finding Dean’s, their smiles matching, their happiness contagious. 

The following day turns into an even bigger celebration. They tell the kids before anyone arrives, receiving happy squeals (Dean assumes he’ll be able to tell them apart one of these days), huge hugs, and lots and lots of excited tears. 

Their doorbell ringing interrupts the general chaos and the three kids rush the door, immediately blurting out the good news to a startled Sam, who is holding a sleeping bundle and a smiling Eileen, who lets loose a squirming Mary.

They’re all talking at once, Emma signing with a flurry of her hands, Mary running through everyone’s legs and by the time Dean gets to him, his little brother is crying and grabbing him for a tight hug. When they all turned into such criers, Dean has no idea but this seems a great enough reason.

More tears are shed when Donna and Jody arrive and Dean spends an hour with Cas while he calls his brothers and sisters to share the good news. Dean’s a little uneasy when Gabriel spends some time asking him if he prefers big boats or big airplanes, especially after they offer to send them on a family honeymoon. Cas is all smiles at the suggestion so Dean just swallows down any apprehension and accepts their generous offer. 

As the day goes on, their backyard fills with teenagers; some of Emma’s friends from school joined Alex and her friends, Claire settling in with them all pretty quick. Jack even invited someone from school, a kinda weird kid named Clark that Dean can’t figure out. He seems to like hanging out with Jack—they’re always talking about candy for some reason. Dean’s pretty sure the kid’s a stoner so he’s keeping an eye on him. 

When they all sit down for dinner at sunset, it’s at one long table, Claire and Emma in charge of the decorations. It looks like Pinterest threw up all over it. But in a good way. Everyone is devouring Dean’s special burgers, along with crispy, golden fried chicken courtesy of Donna. Dean grilled fresh, summer vegetables including bright yellow cobs of corn, and a scoop of honey-sweet baked beans is on every plate except Jack’s. He’s not a fan so Dean cooked him an extra corn on the cob instead. 

Dean sits at one end of the table, Cas at the other and between them, their family eats and drinks and laughs together, making brand new memories to add to all the ones they’ve made in the last nine months. Even during all their planning, they kept getting together with and without the kids and when all is said and done, it’s been the best year of Dean’s life, hands down. 

The ring he’s wearing—Cas’ ring—cements it all into place. 

Glancing up from his plate, Dean finds Cas staring at him, a content smile lighting his face. He’s holding a sleeping baby Maura in his arms, no doubt so Eileen can have a chance to eat because that’s just _Cas_ , that’s just the man he is, selfless and above all else, always kind. 

Maura lets out a small wail and Dean’s content to observe as Cas tends to her, gesturing to Eileen that he’s got it and she should keep eating, all the while rocking Maura in his arm and trying to sooth her. It’s a glance at a Cas that Dean never knew, the one who was a brand new dad, who changed diapers and spent nights in a rocking chair reading stories and singing songs to his sweet babies. 

Dean watches for a little while longer. 

After the food is put away, everyone camps out on their big, grassy back lawn under the stars. One of the perks of living up against Clinton State Park are the fireworks. Every year, the park puts on a big display from the middle of the lake and wouldn’t you know it, their backyard points right in that direction. That totally wasn’t one of the first things on the listing that caught Dean’s eye. (That’s a lie, Dean frickin’ loves fireworks.) 

He’s waiting for Cas to come back from the house and from where he sits, Dean can see Donna and Jody sharing a big, pink blanket a few feet away. Jody’s head is resting in Donna’s lap and Donna’s running her fingers through Jody’s short spikes while she tells a story with a smile. Donna catches Dean staring and he smiles softly at her. She returns his smile but it widens when she glances past him, making Dean turn to find his fiance standing behind him. 

Cas is barefoot in the grass and tugging at the neck of his shirt, pulling it away so he can scratch at a bug bite. He’s holding a beer in each hand and he presses the cool glass to his irritated skin as he sits down next to Dean with a huff. Handing Dean one, Cas doesn’t let the bottle go until Dean leans in to give him a kiss. 

He’s just this cute without even trying, it’s crazy. 

“The mosquitos here are a lot more aggressive,” Cas complains, leaning against Dean as he settles onto the big buffalo check blanket, fussing at a wrinkle before he throws his legs out, one of them hooking over Dean’s.

Dean rolls his eyes and leans back on one hand as he sips his beer. “You’re just a lot sweeter than they’re used to, is all.” 

Cas shakes his head and drops his gaze, his smile shy and sweet. Dean smirks and drapes an arm around Cas as he snuggles closer. They drink their beers in shared silence, enjoying the night and the company as they wait for the show to begin. 

The kids are being noisy, all of them huddled together. They grouped about five big blankets together and then dog piled on them and now they were a pack of glowing faces, all lit up by their cell phones while they still manage to talk and laugh together. Music plays from their blanket and the innocence of it all makes Dean smile, makes him envious for days like that, too. 

Days he used to have with the man under his arm, his now future husband, the man he got to have that youthful innocence with, carefree days spent under the sun falling in love and forming this—this—profound bond that not even Dean can deny exists. Yeah, those innocent days might be past them, but this? Their life and their future together? It’s beyond anything Dean’s ever dreamed of and now it’s a reality.

Their peace and Dean’s musings are interrupted by a very sticky Mary, sucking on one of the frozen strawberry ice pops that Cas made for the party; pure fruit puree so they’re totally healthy, the dad. Dean already ate three. 

Dean takes his arm from Cas’ shoulders and reaches for her in case she needs a steady hand on the blanket, her little feet bare and dirty from running around the backyard. “Hey there Mary girl, can I get a bite of your ice cream?” He opens his mouth in exaggeration but his niece dodges him completely with a giggle, making him groan and fall onto the blanket dramatically. 

“No, Dee, no!” She shrieks, a tinkle of a thing as she charges head first towards Cas, flinging herself into his lap. He catches her with ease, not even spilling a drop of his beer as he laughs, his head thrown back. It’s his stuttering laugh, the one that makes Dean love him so hard he feels like he’s choking on it, like it’s caught in his throat and Dean can’t believe he’s the one that gets to hear it all the time. Rest of their lives, actually. 

Dean can’t help but laugh at the two of them as Mary tries to give Cas some very sticky kisses. Mary _loves_ Cas. When they decided to really do this, part of blending their families was Dean connecting Cas with Sam and his family. When he learned that Eileen was deaf, Cas started taking sign language classes and he was getting pretty good. Emma was teaching Jack and Claire had enrolled in a sign language elective. 

Part of his learning process was talking to Eileen, _a lot._ Facetime was their best friend (and Dean had a sneaking suspicion the two of them were on their way there too) and they were always chatting. Last weekend Dean came home and Eileen was teaching Cas how to make a traditional Irish Stew she learned from her mom. Dean ate good that night. 

With all their Facetiming, Mary got used to seeing Cas and talking to him and despite being the first day they met, when they saw each other this morning, Mary jumped in Cas’ arms and refused to leave them, or his side after Cas finally put her down. The shine wore off after a while but throughout the day, most of the time Dean would find Cas across the yard, Mary wasn’t far from him so it’s no surprise she found her way to their blanket. 

Dean tickles her feet when she settles in Cas’ lap and it makes her giggle. “Oh, you wanna sit with Uncle Cas and not Uncle Dee, huh? I see how it is, kiddo.” 

She reaches out to poke her dripping popsicle at Dean’s cheek, one of her dark brown curls falling into her eyes. Cas tucks it behind her ear so she can see better as she torments Dean with her dessert. Reminds him of Sammy at that age. 

“I sit with Uncle Cas,” she states, except it comes out as one word—uncca-cas—and ain't that just the sweetest. “No Dee.” 

Dean changes his mind. She’s not sweet at all, she’s just her father’s daughter. 

He just shakes his head and watches Cas and Mary sign about bees, using their words only occasionally, Dean helping out with words Cas doesn’t know but mostly he just sits and enjoys the hum of his family and the occasional bursts of laughter from Sam and Eileen, huddled in the darker part of the yard while their kids are taken care of, a break they don’t often get being so far away. 

The next time he looks over at Cas, it’s because him and Mary have gotten quiet and Dean sees that she’s fallen asleep in Cas’ arms, a thumb stuffed in her mouth and a sticky hand fisted in the front of Cas’ t-shirt. His head is down and he’s humming under his breath, something Dean can’t make out but the easy lift of a smile stays on Cas’ face as he rocks them gently. 

“You ever think about having more kids?”

The question comes spilling out before Dean can stop it. 

Cas freezes and lifts his head to meet Dean’s gaze, navy blue eyes wide. 

“Is that nuts? That’s nuts right? Sorry, seeing you with a baby, it’s just makin’ me think that all these kids are gonna be gone soon and I dunno, we’re not _that_ old—” 

“Dean.” Cas cuts off Dean’s rambling, thank _fuck_ and he scoots closer, scooping Mary’s dangling feet into his lap, his thigh pressed against Cas’ so they can speak quietly and not disturb their sleeping niece. Cas shifts closer and she stirs so Dean closes the space between them so he can tip their foreheads together. 

“I watched you earlier today, with Maura,” Cas confesses into the small space between them. “You and Sam were talking on the porch and she was in your arms and I found myself wondering what it would be like if it were _our_ baby you were holding.” 

Dean’s cheeks grow warm at the thought and his heart pounds in his chest.

“Shall we talk to the kids about it?” 

Hearing that Cas already wants to bring it to the table for them to decide as a family scares the shit out of Dean while also making him realize how much he might actually want this. And how close to reality it can become, if the kids are on board. 

“Do we really need a guest bedroom?” 

Cas’ grin is so wide as he shakes his head no, it stretches across his whole face and Dean starts to kiss him as the first fireworks shoot up into the summer sky. The cheer that goes up around the yard makes Mary jerk between them but she settles almost immediately in the warmth between her two uncles, rubbing her cheek against Cas’ chest contentedly. 

They trade more kisses, the sky awash with bright colors and glittering sparks that make light and color and joy dance across all the faces tipped up to the sky. They’re both a little breathless when they pull apart, both excited about their ever evolving future, and the potential of their amazing and possibly expanding family. 

“We re-writing our happy ending again?”

“Well, we _are_ always making it up as we go,” Cas answers, sure as anything.

Dean’s heart swells with love. He presses a kiss to Cas’ sweet mouth. “I love you, Castiel.”

“And I you, Dean.” Cas returns his kiss, the promises behind it clear. “You and Us.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this, please let me know! You can leave a little comment or come say hi on [Tumblr](https://casloveshisfreckles.tumblr.com/) or on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/caslvshsfreckls)
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
